Rushing Nightshade
by Sapphire Blizzard
Summary: She got into his head and now he's getting into her heart. Payback's a muffler clot.
1. A Devious Scheme

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 _You may be deceived if you trust too much, but you live in torment if you do not trust enough._

—Unknown—

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His sponsor was livid, to say the least, and so was he. Seriously, he had just lost to a chick in a costume who used cheap tactics to distract him! This was unbelievably humiliating. At the brand-new start of this racing season all the attention should have been on him and his projected victory alone!

"-son! Jackson! Jackson! Are you listening to me?" his superior demanded.

Storm narrowed his shades at his boss, an ill-tempered gray Mercedes-Benz. It is a pity the former president of the IGNTR Corporation had just retired and left his company in the tires of his son and heir: a brat, just a couple of years older than himself.

"That will be enough, Mr. Slate," his crew chief spoke up. The black truck drove in between the two. "This loss was unexpected and hard on all of us, especially Jack-"

"I think you mean my pocketbook, Ray!" Mr. Slate raged. "I've had several business deals lined up for today's victory and now two out of the three are reconsidering our contracts! This new yellow racer is distracting them!"

Jackson gritted his teeth. _Ramirez._

"My lawyers have been trying to get in contact with Mr. Sterling for the past hour, but they are denied an audience with him because he's currently in a private conference with Tex of Dinoco! Don't you understand what this means?" his harsh eyes turned back towards Storm. "It seems you got yourself a rival, kid!" he spat with disdain.

A rival? That wanna-be-racer a rival to him? Jackson let out a low chuckle.

"You're laughing?" Mr. Slate demanded incredulous, his grill contorted with fury. "Just what-"

"Oh, there's no rivalry."

Jackson revved up his engine. The roaring sound emanating from him filled the entire pavilion. Letting everyone present not only hear his power but to feel it down into the smallest bolt in their body.

Looking a bit overwhelmed, Mr. Slate reversed back up a foot. "J-Just what are-"

"She just got lucky. She used underhanded tricks to get me off my line. I can promise you, sir, it won't happen again."

"Th-then you best get your hood out the clouds!" Mr. Slate retorted. "Stay focused! You must win the next race at the Indianapolis 300 in three weeks. Lose to the new girl there and I will reconsider your contract!"

Storm rolled his eyes at the empty threat. He was the best of the new generation. Slate would be a fool to drop him, but Jackson did agree with him on one thing: there will be no more losing to his girl.

"Do you understand?" Mr. Slate demanded after he finished his rant.

"Loud and clear," Jackson replied robotically. He turned his tires towards his trailer.

"Are we done?"

"We're done."

Storm turned away. He would not entertain him any longer. He left his sponsor's tent and rode out to return to his trailer. No one dared to stop him and the press was all busy with costume girl, the little cheat. He found his trailer already hooked up to Gale and ready to go. Good. He really didn't want to stay a moment longer. He opened the latch and backed right in.

No one could best his top speed. No one! He was a perfected machine born, bred for racing. That's why Ramirez was a trainer in the first place! Because she couldn't make the cut! And then that old grandpa car, McQueen filling her hood with lies… instead, he should have retired and gone quietly into the night like his fellow racers, but nooo. He just had to stick around like a love bug on his windshield.

Just wait till next time.

Next race he will put her in her place, and this time no tricks or schemes will work on him.

Jackson turned up his music to the highest level that it was practically deafening.

His hauler overrides his music system and turned the volume down. "Rough day, Storm?" she asked over the intercom.

"Just a bump in the road, Gale."

The oil in his engine burned even hotter as he let out an infuriated roar. He will show her whose boss next time.

He will get her back.

* * *

Storm's confidence was eroding faster than rust. He had won the Indianapolis 300, just barely, not that he would admit it. Ramirez was right on his tail the whole time. Even bypassed him in the second to last lap. Just what was she? She was so crafty and sleek, able to move her way through the pack so slick and smooth. It was only with desperate bursts of acceleration did he manage to cross the finish line first.

What if the next track wasn't as straight as this one? Curves and turns were not his specialty. However, the next track _will_ be to Ramirez's advantage. Could he beat her? Wait, _what_ was he thinking? Storm shook himself. When had he ever doubt his abilities?

As much as he hated to admit it that damn car has gotten into his head.

He glared down at Ramirez as she sat happily on the second-place podium, completely oblivious to him. It didn't matter to her that she didn't win. Like a kid at Disneyland without FastPass, she was just happy to be here. It made him sick.

Storm didn't even bother entertaining the press like he normally does. As soon as he had his trophy, he was off the stage and driving back to his trailer. Ray Reverham, his crew chief, was waiting for him to arrive at the door, looking so grim as if he came in second place instead of Ramirez.

"What?" Storm demanded, getting beyond annoyed.

This chief crew pursued his lips. "Just what was your strategy out there?" he asked. "I told you to cut inside. Why did you ignore me?"

"I always follow my line, Ray."

"Oh, that's nice," Ray replied with heavy sarcasm. "Just follow a line and hope your speed can land you every race!"

Storm felt his tank beginning to roll. "It works doesn't it?"

"Sure, kid. It did, but that was before Cruz Ramirez. She's a slick one. She doesn't follow a line. She curves with the track."

"So?" Storm narrowed his eyes. "Ramirez still came in second," he reminded him.

"Ramirez is a game changer. It's time to make it or break down."

Storm leveled him with a biting glare. "Ray, you didn't just go there," he snarled.

His crew chief was not backing down as he returned a glare of his own. "I rather go there now than for you to continue down a slippery slope!" He drove off without another word.

* * *

And boy did that slope continue to steepen and Storm was sliding down without the breaks: He had lost to her again.

The media were now calling her the "Queen of the East" since she had the leading wins in the Eastern State Speedways.

Storm sat alone with his thoughts in the darkness of his trailer, not wanting to see or hear anyone. His stereo completely silent. It was time to get his hood back in the game. He realized that he had no choice, Ray was right. He had to change tactics, but there was nothing wrong with him. It was Ramirez who was the problem.

The solution was simple: she had to go.

But he couldn't beat her down mentally or physically. That yielded rather poor results, but what else could he do? Her mind was set, her determination fierce, but there was still one area he could always exploit. If he couldn't break her will, then he will break her heart.

It was a low blow, but a low he was willing to swoop if it meant getting rid of Ramirez and kicking Lightning McQueen off the radar permanently, and then he'll be the King again. But how was he going to get her to like him much less to love him? Normally all he had to do was be himself and Porsches would throw themselves at his tires.

Storm's social skills were less to be desired, but even he knew there was no going forward until… ugh. Storm threw up a little in his mouth. He had to apologize.

"This better be worth it…" he grumbled to himself.

The dark racer stepped on his latch bar and rode out of his trailer. Dinoco's trailer was just three haulers down. All was quiet. Not even Dinoco's hauler was here yet. So Storm pulled in-between two other trailers and waited. It didn't take long. The yellow racer showed up in less than five minutes.

Cruz has just left the stage and all the press behind. She was rolling back to her trailer sluggishly. "Whoo-boy, this is tougher than I thought…" she muttered to herself. "… those reporters wouldn't have let me leave if it wasn't for Mr. McQueen distracting them."

 _'Yes, it is tough,'_ Storm mentally agreed with her. _'All the more reason for you to go.'_ He felt his oil rolling in his tank as he forced himself to greet her, "Ramirez," it came out a bit gruffer than he intended as he rode out from the shadows.

Cruz jerked to a stop. "S-Storm?" She stuttered, shocked to see him there.

He sent her a smirk. "In the metal."

"Just… just what were you doing here and… and near my trailer?" Cruz glanced around nervously, her eyes lingering on the wheels and bolts of her trailer.

Storm chuckled with amusement. "I didn't sabotage anything if that's what you mean."

Sure, he was a jerk, but not THAT much a jerk.

A dark blue car rode into the scene. "Hey Cruz, I finally got them off your-" his sentence fell dead on his lips when he spotted the black car. McQueen immediately gunned his engine. He sped forward and parked himself protectively in front of Ramirez. "Storm! What do you want?" he demanded harshly.

"What are you now, McQueen, her keeper?" Storm asked, somewhat annoyed. He had forgotten about her crew chief practically being her shadow. If he was to ever to fully gain Cruz's trust, then he will also have to get himself into Lightning's good graces. "Chill, gramps. I simply wanted to congratulate Cruz on her win today. That's all."

The retired racer and his pupil seemed shocked by his answer and then downright suspicious. "Really?" McQueen challenged.

 _"Really,"_ Storm confirmed. He looked over McQueen's hood to look Cruz straight in the eyes. "You did well today."

"Um…" she blinked, looking more baffled than anything. "…thanks, I think?" she replied.

Okay. Now it's time to apologize.

"Cruz, listen. I wish to…" Storm hesitated. This was hard. In his mind, there was nothing to apologize about. "…you… you belong," he told her instead. A complete lie, but least that was better than apologizing.

Cruz frowned slightly from confusion. "Huh?"

Jackson huffed. This was getting annoying. Was she really this clueless?

"You belong on the tracks, alright? You're not a costume girl, you're a racer!" He turned to drive off without her response. There was only so much he could take in a day.

"Storm!" Cruz called after him.

Jackson hit the brakes and reversed, so he could see her over his side mirrors.

She gave him a half smile. "Good race?" she offered.

Storm decided to humor her, so he nodded. "Good race, but I'm winning the next one," he said and meant it.

A slow grin spread across her face. "Sure, you can try."

Her friendly jab irked Storm greatly, but he couldn't show it. Not when he had made so much progress in less than ten minutes. "Hmph," He drove away.

At least now the ice between them was now officially broken. Let's see how this progress…

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Next Chapter: Misplaced Hatred

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	2. Misplaced Hatred

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 _Compassion brings us to a stop, and for a moment we rise above ourselves._

—Mason Cooley—

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The next race, the Buy N Large 400, was unexpectedly put on hold due to a hurricane brewing in the Gulf Coast. Meteorologist projected it to come through Houston and inevitably the Houston Speedway. So, everyone was given a by-week. Meaning the racers had nearly a month off in the middle of the season.

Not that will do him any good.

Storm sent the gray sky a disgruntled look. He hated rain. It only splotched his coat and made the roads slippery. As to mock him, it began to sprinkle. Great, now he really would have water spots later-

"Hey, thundercloud, cheer up!" a voice perked up beside him.

Ugh… Ramirez. It's too early for this.

"Let bygones be bygones," she had told him. Storm almost felt guilty, _almost._ Cruz was just too trusting for her own good. It's incredulous how chummy she's gotten with him over the past month. He tried not to wince when the yellow racer bumped tires with him. "Glaring at the sky is not going to scare the rain clouds away!"

"You never know," he replied. "I'll show that hurricane who's boss and run it back into the Gulf," Storm turned to her. "So, do you have plans?"

Cruz nodded vigorously. "Yup! I'm going with Mr. McQueen to Radiator Springs to train and visit his friends. I am also gonna pay a visit to my mom since she lives along the way. Then we're coming back a week before the race. So, what are your plans?"

Storm huffed. Plans? All his plans were ruined. "Ray and Gale are gone. Ray is overseas. His brother is getting his transmission rebuild, so he left to support his family and Gale left to go to some Truckers' Convention held once every five years in Kentucky. So, I have no ride and no trainer available."

Cruz's face fell. "Well, that bites…" she said sympathetically. "What are you going to do?"

Storm shrugged. "I may just ride out the hurricane and practice on the track as soon as it's cleared."

Cruz scrunched up her face. "But that's sooo boring! Not to mention unproductive!"

Storm raised a shadebrow. "Then do you have any bright ideas?"

"Cruz! Mack is hooked up!" Lightning McQueen rode over to inform her. His eyes not on his trainee, but on Storm. Unlike his navie trainee, McQueen still had trust issues. He made sure to always intervene at the most convenient times by calling Cruz away for one reason or another. "Let's go and put as many miles between us and Hurricane Carry as we can!"

"Right, coming, Mr. McQueen!" Cruz looked back to Storm guilty. "I will see you soon…?"

Storm smiled what he hoped appeared to be friendly. Being approachable was not his forte. "Yeah. Take care."

As he was about to drive away, Ramirez abruptly stopped him. "Hey, wait a sec! Storm, I um…" Cruz suddenly looked sheepish as she grinds her right front tire against the pavement self-consciously.

She looked kind of cu—NO, just _no._ Storm mentally berated himself for the thought. She certainly wasn't anything akin to adorable! Rameriz was a pest needed to be rid of, like a yellow wasp in need of spraying! That would be her.

"…I was wondering if... I-I mean if you don't have other plans a-and if you want to that is!" she rambled.

Lightning sent her an uneasy look. "Cruz, what are you doing-"

"You can come with me—I-I meant _us!_ Not just me, US to Radiator Springs!"

"WHAT?" Lightning balked.

Storm blinked, not expecting such an invite.

"Cruz! You can't just invite him like this on the spot! Storm could have other plans!"

She sent McQueen an apologetic grin. "Actually, he's free…"

"Ugh!" Lightning rolled his eyes. "Then uninvite him! We're going to be training! This isn't some leisure cruise!"

"I know, Mr. McQueen, but that's why I'm kinda inviting Storm along," Cruz persisted. "He doesn't have a coach right now. Could you give him some pointers if he decides to come?"

That outdated junk give him advice?

Lightning looked indignant as Storm felt. "Not a lemon's chance cross country! I'm _your_ crew chief, Cruz, not his!"

Cruz huffed, her cheeks puffed out from annoyance.

Storm began to chuckle, his ire leaving him. "Do you really feel that bad for me?" he wondered. "As to offer to share your own personal trainer?"

Cruz shrugged. "I don't mind… You don't have to go, Storm, but I really wanted you to see Radiator Springs. It's a nice little town along Route 66 and the folks who live there are really nice, right Mr. McQueen?"

"It certainly has its charm..." Lightning reluctantly agreed. "Listen," his tone softened. "I know you mean well, but going to the middle of the Sonoran Desert isn't Storm's style. He probably wants to train on some fancy schmancy stimulator."

"You're right, McQueen," Jackson admitted. "I rather be doing just that, but my hauler is gone, so I don't have my portable stimulator."

Lightning looked surprised. "So, you're practically stranded?" he summed up.

"Pretty much," Storm confirmed. "I do however have unlimited access to my sponsor's stimulator, but it's located on the west coast in California."

Lightning was about to reply when Cruz interrupted, "Really? That's great!" she exclaimed. "Then why don't you hitchhike with us? It's less than a day's drive to California from Radiator Springs! And while you're there I can show you around the town! There's the Doc Hudson Museum, the track around Willy's Butte and-"

"Cruz! Just wait a mo-"

"I would like that," Storm accepted quickly before McQueen could intervene again. "Thank you, Cruz."

Cruz perked up and bounced happily on her tires. "Your welcome!"

The gobsmacked look on McQueen's face was worth accepting the invitation alone. Lightning plastered on a grin that appeared more like a grimace. "Will you excuse us for just a second?" the Dinoco crew chief didn't wait for his reply as he turned away. Cruz yelped as her mentor hauled her a short distance for a reprimand.

Storm watched them go in amusement. He was overly pleased how quickly the winds turned in his favor. No doubt he will grow closer to costume girl and maybe even learn some of her tricks before he left for INGTR's headquarters.

A cunning smirk lined his lips. Just stick to the plan and he will have her right where he wants her.

* * *

Storm lost his smirk, however, when he found himself facing McQueen's rear spoiler in the back of an outdated hauler for hours at a time.

The "Fabulous Lightning" wouldn't let him park anywhere near Cruz, even when they got out of the trailer to stretch their wheels at pit stops. Thank the manufacturer Cruz's parent lived in New Mexico. They arrived in Carlsbad, within a day by pulling an all-nighter. Unfortunately, it happened to be at noon, also the hottest part of the day.

"Whew! It's steaming out here!" Lightning panted as they exited the cool air-conditioned trailer and now stood underneath the merciless sun. Storm felt inclined to agree. His paint attracted enough heat as it is, but now he felt like he was slowly broiling over an open grill as they rode down the steamy pavement.

"Ugh…" moaned Mack, Lightning, and Storm at the same time.

"Guys, I'm heading back to the pit stop," the large semi made a U-turn, eager to get back to the shaded pavilion. "Call me when you're ready to move on!"

"I think my tires are starting to melt..." Storm muttered.

"Oh, come on, this is great weather!" Cruz laughed, circling laps around them. "It's only 102 degrees out here! Normally it's in the 120s!"

Storm glared at her. How did she even have the energy?

"Cruz, just lead the way already!" McQueen snapped irritably.

"Okay! Follow me! It's not that far. I live only 30 minutes away!" she led them down a long patched road. The landscape was dry and desolate. Brown, brown and browner, with a few cactus here and there. "Oh that reminds me, don't you guys want to visit the Carlsbad Carven before we leave the state? It's a pretty cool place to see!"

"If it's inside, then fine!" Lightning replied.

Storm sped up so he was shoulder to shoulder with Cruz. "Did you grow up here?" he wondered.

"Yup. Since I was a pre-teen when my mother finally managed to buy a house. Hey Hamilton, call Mamá!"

" _Dialing the Ramirez household."_ said her personal assistant.

"Hola, this Camila!" a lady answered on the other end.

"Hola Mamá!" Cruz greeted her parent. "¿Qué pasa?!"

"Cruz!" she cried excitedly. "My niño querido! How wonderful it is to hear from you!"

And he just _had_ to take French in high school, Storm huffed to himself.

"I'm in town for the day and I am bringing two guests with me, is that okay?"

"Absolutamente! Come! Come! I will have food waiting!"

Twenty minutes later they arrived at a small subdivision called Pitts Valley. Along the lanes were flat roof houses. Not impressive at all. Storm wasn't used to visiting places like this. Not since he hit the big leagues and left the hood. If Rameriz was this big shot racer, then why was her mother living in the middle of nowhere U.S.A?

Cruz was beginning to look nervous all of a sudden. "Hey, guys when we get there, play along, alright?"

"You mean be on our best behavior?" Lightning clarified.

"That too, but really, play along. Don't talk about me being a racer, alright-"

"Cruz! You've come home at last!" a lady cried out. At the end of the block was a mustard colored Hyundai Veloster. Waving to them as they approached. She tightly embraced her daughter. "It's been so long since I've last seen you," she kissed her cheeks. "...te extrañe!"

"Oh, I missed you too, Mamá!" Cruz hugged her back. "Sorry for not visiting you as often as I should!"

Lightning smiled contentedly while Strom hung back, growing increasingly uncomfortable. Seeing all this affection was beginning to make his paint shrivel.

"Mamá, I would like you to meet, Lightning McQueen," she pointed to her crew chief. "And this," motioning to him next. "Is Jackson Storm."

"Oh! You must be her students!" Ms. Ramirez assumed. "Hola and welcome to Carlsbad! Is my daughter a good instructor to you both?"

"…" Not knowing if he should be insulted or not, Storm just blinked at her slowly.

Even McQueen looked confused. "...huh? Ma'am, don't you-"

Cruz made wild motioning gestures from behind her mother. Pleading with them to agree.

"I mean, uh, yes… we're her students," Lightning answered. "She's a great teacher."

"Hm." Storm huffed. "Lectures are a bit dull though..."

"Um, Mamá we like to get out this heat!" Cruz spoke up, in hopes of distracting her. "These boys aren't used to it."

"Oh, of course! Please come inside! Food and drink are waiting!"

Ms. Ramirez was very hospitable, her home was humble but cool and the food she provided was surprisingly good. The brand of oil they consumed was something Storm had never heard before, but the blend had a rich and spicy kick to it. He didn't mind helping himself to seconds.

"I am so proud of you, Cruz!" her mother continued to gush over her daughter's alleged profession. "You got that solid Trainer's job at Rust-Eze's headquarters but two years ago and now you're the head trainer!"

"Ah heh, heh…" Cruz nervously laughed. "T-There's no need to brag-"

"No need? Ba! I must shout it to the world what a smart girl you are!" she nudged her daughter playfully. "See? That's why you always listen to Mamá!"

Cruz cringed. "Mamá, please! I am not here to talk about myself, I want to know what's been happening with you!"

McQueen and Storm shared a look. One thought passed between them: this lady knew nothing about Cruz's racing career.

* * *

Later that night, Storm found himself backed into a cramp guest bedroom. He had almost drifted off to sleep when his internal phone went off.

 _"Sir, you have a call from Ramirez, Cruz,"_ Josephine, his personal assistant, sounded out.

He groaned. "Wha…" he muttered sleepily.

" _Ramirez, Cruz is calling you, sir,"_ she repeated.

"What?" Storm answered the call irritably.

At his tone, the yellow racer squeaked, "Eek! Sorry if I woke you up!"

"What is it, Ramirez?"

"Can't sleep…" she admitted.

Storm scoffed. "So, you decide to pester me? Why don't you bother McQueen?" he grumbled.

"He's kind of a worrywart who happens to sleep like a car with a dead battery. Seriously, have you ever seen him sleep?"

"I hope I never do," Storm replies.

"Well, I promise you that guy could sleep through the apocalypse! Well, anyway, Mr. McQueen doesn't have an internal phone programmed into his system like we do…"

Well, since she started their conversation, he might as well ask. "How come your Mom doesn't know about you being a famous racer, "Queen of the East"?"

"I…" Cruz hesitated. "I don't want to worry her about my career, alright?"

"Worry?" Storm laughed. "What's to worry? She's afraid you'll get hurt?"

"No, that's not it… she's worried that I won't make a good living. Racing is not considered a real job to her."

Storm rolled his eyes at the nonsense spewing from her mouth. "What do you mean it isn't a real job? You have a solid contract with one of the prominent sponsors in the business for starters-"

"She doesn't understand, Storm," Cruz cut him off in an unusual sober tone. "To Mamá, being a trainer is a real job. I can be a trainer until my transmission gives out, but with racing…" she paused. Storm imagined her shaking her head. "…it's not forever. We're the new generation now, but there will always be another… and then we too will be retired from the sport."

Jackson frowned. He was now. He _is_ the future and it is his time to shine for a long time. That's why he wanted those old, outdated coupes gone. They were blocking the road to the future. _His_ future.

"Try to understand from her perspective, Jack," Cruz continued. "Mamá raised me by herself as a single parent so, she only wants what's best for me."

Storm grew quiet at this reveal. "…what happened to your Dad?" he ventured.

"Oh, he was there for the most part, but that was until he…" Cruz sighed sadly. "…he couldn't take it anymore…"

Storm frowned. "Did he abandon you or something?" he guessed.

"Not in the way you think… my parents first got together, right out of high school. My Papá was an aspiring musician who tried so hard to get his big break, but it never happened… the only gigs he got were at truck pitstops… my parents struggled financially because of it…"

"Ah…" Storm really didn't know what to say. So, her father was a loser, but what does that mean?

"So Mamá became a housekeeper to help pay the bills. Sometimes she did… other things… things for the guests to get some extra money," Cruz hinted. "Mamá got a little too much extra when she accidentally ended up with me-oh, I don't know why I just told you that!" she panicked. "Please don't look down on my Mamá! She was only trying to-"

"It doesn't change my opinion on her at all," Jackson told her truthfully. "At least she took care of her kid, unlike my parents," he grumbled more acidly than he realized. "So please, go on."

"W-Well… Papá was already feeling bad that he wasn't providing for his growing family, but it got worse when he found out I wasn't even his kid…" she chuckled humorlessly. "It was obvious I wasn't a Hyundai like Mamá nor an Opel like him… instead, I was a foreign sports coupe of some sort…"

"So he did abandon you?" Storm confirmed.

"No and yes."

"…meaning?"

"He tried to be a good Papá to me regardless. Until one night… he didn't come home ever again… Mamá tried to shield me from the truth but eventually, I found out that he drove off the marine when he was fired from his only night gig."

Cruz sniffled a little.

"Mamá then raised me on her own. She told me to "Dream small, Cruz," so I wouldn't get hurt like Papá did… so I listened. I got a real career to support myself. But now... I am scared of what she'll say if she finds out. I am lucky she doesn't follow sports or watch television but eventually, she will know. I am just not ready to face it yet..."

Storm slumped down on his tires. He felt a fraction of his hatred towards her dissipate just a little. "Sorry I asked you about it…" he apologized, and for once, meant it.

"It's fine," she tried to sound chirpy and failed. "I am pestering you in the middle of the night after all."

No words were spoken between them for several minutes.

"… … … … …are you still there?"

"Unfortunately."

She giggled. "Thank you."

'Oh, don't thank me yet,' Storm thought to himself. 'I got some juicy blackmail for the win.' All he had to do now was to wait, bait and use it against her. "Did you ever try finding your real Dad?" he asked.

Cruz snorted with amusement. "His lawyers found us first. Mom had to sign some papers and then he cut us a check for my tuition and some necessaries. After that exchange, I never heard or saw him ever again. I can't be mad at that. Without his aid, I wouldn't have been able to attend college."

Unbelievable. Was she seriously this optimistic about everything?

"I gonna retire now…" Storm was ready to hang up.

"Storm, wait!"

"Yeah?"

"You said earlier. About at least my mother being present in my life… that got me wondering, what happened to your family?"

Too close, Ramirez, too close.

Cruz may have been more open to sharing her dirty laundry, but Storm wasn't. "Don't know," was the only thing he would admit. "My parents left me on the steps of an orphanage in Chicago."

"That's terrible… Storm, I'm sorry," she sounded genuinely saddened, but Storm did not want her pity. In fact, he found it funny.

"Sorry for what?" Storm chuckled. "I mean _look_ at me now."

"…that you never knew the love of a mother," she answered quietly and so sincerely that Storm felt his oil rolling. He suddenly felt sick and wanted out of this conversation now.

"Goodnight, Cruz," Storm turned off phone abruptly before she could answer back. "Love…?" he muttered to the darkness, before scoffing, "Who needs a thing called love? Pssh."


	3. Guess who's coming to visit

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 _You can have a certain arrogance, and I think that's fine, but what you should never lose is the respect for the others._

—Steffi Graf—

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Three days later they arrived in Radiator Springs to a lonesome town along Route 66. It was so small that a car could turn a single block and be on the steps of the interstate. Storm glanced through the tinted window at the cars gathering around the trailer outside. This small assembly probably included every resident in the town.

"Okay, here we go!" Cruz stepped on the latch. McQueen had made him get in the trailer first at the last pitstop this time, so he had to wait for Cruz and Lightning to back out first.

"Cruz!" the cars cheered as soon as the door lowered.

"Hey, guys!" The yellow racer rode out and down the ramp. "Long time no see!"

Storm expected Lightning to follow her, but he didn't shift gears. Instead, he remained parked in place, glaring at him. Seconds past and then a minute until Storm grew tired of looking at Lightning's grill. "What?" he deadpanned. If he remained parked there any longer, Storm was convinced he will memorize every bolt, scratch, and blemish on Lightning's paint.

"Something about you isn't right…" Lightning muttered.

Oh, so the veteran racer was on to him. So what? That was old news to Storm. It couldn't be more obvious except to the oblivious Cruz.

"Is my tire pressure off or something?" Storm mocked him.

Lightning was not amused. "You know what I mean, Storm! I don't know what you're really up too yet, but while you're here you best watch yourself."

"Are you threatening me now, McQueen?" came his blunt reply.

"No, I'm warning you. That's a difference," Lightning smiled, but there was a shadow on his lips with an unspoken promise of retaliation. "As long as you behave, I behave. You have nothing to worry about-"

"Hey, Lightning! Are you coming out or not?" someone shouted from the outside. "Everyone's eager to see you!"

"Coming! Lightning called over his shoulder. He turned back to Storm. "Behave," he said one last time before backing out of the trailer. His countenance brightening as he greeted his friends. "Hey, everyone!"

They returned his greeting ebulliently, but one voice, in particular, overpowered them all. "WELL DADGUM, YER BACK!"

A rusty old tow truck sped forward. He was missing his hood and had faded turquoise paint. "Hey, there buddy!"

"Mater!" Lightning whooped. He bumped tires with him. "Great to see you!" They then began to do a more elaborated tireshake that involved front and back, side by side and even a twist and several twirls.

Storm blinked. That was the dorkiest thing he had ever seen. Was this was a prelude to the level of crazy he will experience while staying here at Radiator Springs?

"Welcome home, Stickers."

Lightning's eyes twinkled when a baby blue Porsche with alloy wheels drove up beside him. She was neither old nor young. Storm imagined her to be quite a babe back in her prime. "Sally!" Lightning nuzzled her fender lovingly. "I've missed you, hon!"

Sally leaned in nuzzling him back. "I missed you more," she replies. "Glad you're back."

Storm remembered the big uproar the press made when Lightning finally married his longtime girlfriend some months back. It was rare for racers to marry their sweethearts. Many focused so hard on their careers that love ended up in the slow lane and getting bypassed along the way.

Lightning pulled back. Once he got a good look at her, his shades went all the way up to his hood. "Whoa, Sally!" he exclaimed.

"What-"

"You look, _wow!"_ he told her.

She giggled. "That's nice to hear. Sooo descriptive too!" she teased merrily.

"Really, you do!" he insisted. "Did you get a fresh coat of wax or something? You look like you're sparkling in the sunlight!"

"Ah," A soft smile crossed her face. "Maybe there's a reason behind that…"

Lightning looked puzzled. "Huh… just what do you mean by that?"

"I'll tell you later…" she promised. "So!" the Porsche turned her attention towards Cruz. "How's the Queen of the East doing?"

"Ahh, Mrs. Sally!" Cruz moaned with embarrassment. The media may call me that, but don't use the nickname around here!"

"Whatever you say, your highness."

What a hokey family reunion this was turning into. Storm decided to finally emerge from the darkness of the trailer. As he expected, their reactions were less than welcoming at his presence. It would have been a warmer reception to Count Dracula at a carriage car slumber party.

"S-Storm?! Storm is here?!"

"Hmph! What is the likes of him doing here?" A yellow Fiat demanded.

"How did he get in that trailer?! Is he a stole away or something?"

"That's kind of impossible..." someone reasoned. "To sneak into the trailer and travel for days... unless..."

They all turned to Lightning for an explanation.

"Cruz brought him," McQueen explained with the least amount of enthusiasm in the world.

Cruz sent him an annoyed look. "Listen, everyone!" she raised her voice to address the crowd. "I brought Jackson Storm along as a guest. So please be your hospitable selves, alright?"

Instead, all they sent Storm were open looks of suspicion. No one seemed willing to approach him first. That was until McQueen's wife drove forward. "I know we have gotten off on a flat tire but, if Cruz thinks you deserve a fresh start then who are we to judge?"

She smiled at him kindly. "I am Sally," she introduced herself formally. "It's a pleasure to meet your acquaintance."

Storm smiled, hoping he appeared friendly. "The pleasure is all mine, Mrs. McQueen."

Apparently, Sally was the monarch of the town because now the rest of the folks came forward without hesitation.

"Welcome to Radiator Springs, Honey!" chirped a snazzy 1950 green show-car. "The name's Flo! If you ever get thirsty come down to Flo's V8 Cafe!"

Storm glanced at her station across the street. It seemed old-fashioned with all the 1960's getup, but the gas pumps looked very well up kept. "I'll remember that."

Mater drove up next, wagging his towing cable like a dog's tail. Storm inwardly cringed. He would have put his gears in reverse if this rust bucket came any closer. "If ya ever need a tow call Mater, Tow Mater!" he smiled widely, showing off uneven buck teeth.

"…right." And this was supposed to be Lightning McQueen's legendary "best friend"? Storm was not impressed. This tow truck seemed like nothing but some dumb hillbilly. "I'm never planning on taking you up on it, but thanks."

"I'm Ramone!" announced the next car sporting a rather flamboyant custom paint job. "I run the House of Body Art shop and currently the town doc! I can fix you up and get you a new coat of paint in a jiffy. Whether you want some effects like golden flames, a new spoiler or simply a wax and tuneup, Ramone's your man!"

"Hm…" Storm contemplated that a nice buffer and wax would look nice on him. "…maybe I'll get a coating later."

An old yellow Fiat drove up. "I am Luigi and this is Guido," he motioned to a little blue forklift parked beside him. "We run the tire store down the block, Luigi's Casa Della Tires! Since you are an acquaintance of Cruz's, I would like to cut you a sizzling hot deal on our tires!"

"A generous offer, but I'm a racer like McQueen was. That means I get my tires for free. You got to know that, right?"

"Oh ha, ha! Another one of those customers!" Luigi said this while winking at McQueen.

Lightning simply rolled his eyes.

"I'll tell you what," the little car bumped tires with him, unknowingly irking Storm. "My best offer upfront! You buy two tires and get two free!" he announced excitedly. "Un grande affare! You can't get better than fifty percent off, friend!"

Storm sent him a withering look. "If I buy a set, will you leave me alone?"

Luigi happily accepted his proposition. "I like your style!"

Storm never planned to use the tires he purchased, but he would donate them to a nearby homeless shelter as an anonymous donor. "I'll take four of the lightyears-"

"No!" the little car interrupted him. "Luigi tells you!"

Storm frowned. What was with this loon? "What are you talking about?" he demanded. "It's my money, my tires-"

"Wrong! My shop, my tires and you're my customer! Style with durability! Flare with quality! I always pick the right tire for the right car!"

"Whatever," Storm just wanted the annoying Fiat away from him. "Charge your picks to me and then please leave me the pit alone—WAGH!" he yelped uncharacteristically loud when he felt an unexpected slap across his rear bumper.

"What the heck?!" Storm jumped. "Who touched me?!"

"Heh, heh!" An old Ford Model T rode out from behind him. "It's on the house from the Radiator Springs Curios shop!" she crackled.

"Oh how nice!" Sally remarked, trying and failing to hide her amusement. "Lizzie has given you a free bumper sticker!"

Storm glared at the elderly car who violated him. "How generous..." he gritted. "What does it say?"

"Hm, let's see..." Cruz peered behind him. "It reads: "You tailgate, I backfire"?"

The surrounding cars burst out into laughter.

"Oh, Lizzie!" Cruz looked embarrassed. "Please behave!"

"What?" the old lady asked defensively. "I'm just being hospitable like you asked!" She drove back onto her porch. "And congratulations, Cruz. It's about time you got yourself a young good looking hotrod!"

"H-He's not my boyfriend, Liz!" Cruz sputtered. "He's a friend!"

"Whatever you say, dear-"

"I mean it!"

"Oh, really?"

"YES!"

"If that's the case then I'll take him off your tires-"

"LIZZIE!"

Just how crazy are these country bumpkins? Storm wondered if coming here was a good idea at all. Will he get out of Radiator Springs alive and with all his parts intact by the end of this ill-conceived plan of his? At this rate, it would be a challenge.

"So where are Sarge and Fillmore?" Lightning asked suddenly.

Cruz glanced around. "Yeah, not to mention Sheriff and Big Red..."

By the manufacturer, _no!_ Storm was about ready to hit the escape button.

"They're busy," Ramone answered, much to Storm's relief. "Sarge is in the middle of Boot Camp training some more city SUVs and Fillmore is with some customers in the back of his…" he cringed slightly. "…Lovebed… ugh, I wish he would change the name of his lounge, man, it's creepy!"

"Oh!" Cruz brightened suddenly. She was looking over toward the firehouse. A dated-looking firetruck was busy watering the flowers in his window garden. "There's Red! Hey, Red! Come over here and greet Jackson Storm!"

Red looked up, appearing startled by Cruz's invite. He gasped and then he hurriedly closed the window.

Storm blinked. Just what was that?

"Red is too shy, honey!" Flo chuckled. "He'll eventually say "Hi" when he warms up to him! And you won't be seeing Sheriff today either. He's on patrol near Wheel Well again."

"Ahh," Cruz sounded disappointed. "That's too bad... when will he be back?"

Sally shook her head. "Not for a couple of nights. He's determined to jail the Nut and Bolt Flicker Gang."

Mater, who was parked nearby, snorted into unhinged laughter. Storm had to agree, their name was anything but intimidating.

"Can you blame Sheriff for wanting them off the streets? Those hoodlums are car buzzards!" Flo shuddered. "Hate to be at their mercy in the middle of the night with no help or witnesses whatsoever!"

"That's why I am worried for the Sheriff's sake," Sally replies. "He's only one patrol car..."

Changing the subject, the blue Porche suggested to Cruz, "Why don't you show Storm around town?" she motioned towards one of the newest buildings on the block. "You can start at the Doc Hudson Museum. Lightning has added an exhibit to it recently."

Cruz perked up instantly. "He did?!"

"Ahh, Sal," Lightning practically whined. "That was supposed to be a surprise for later!"

Sally sent him an apologetic smile. "Oops. Sorry, Stickers."

"It's alright, hon." Lightning rode over to Cruz. "Guess the tracker is out the fence now. Want to go see it?"

"Of course!" she agreed without hesitation. Cruz turned to Storm. "C'mon! Let's go to the Museum!" she sped off towards the place.

"Oh goody…" Storm muttered as he followed her dutifully.

* * *

"OH!" Cruz looked around excitedly. "Oh-ho-ho-ho!"

"What?" Storm wondered what was she getting so excited about. He drove over to the new exhibit labeled, 'Piston Cup Legends'. There were portraits of every veteran racer who won a piston cup. Beneath their photographs was a plaque of their name and a brief description of their accomplishments. The trophies they won were freshly polished and sitting in a glass case.

"You added Rivers Scott!" she cheered, riding up to the stand of a 1938 Dirt Track Racer.

"Who…?" Storm murmured.

"Yep, I did," Lightning nodded proudly. "Glad you noticed," he chuckled, amused by her enthusiasm.

"How can I not?" Cruz giggled. "This is an amazing photo of him winning his last Piston Cup at the Kentucky Speedway in 1958!" she commented. Cruz darted around from section to section. "And not only him, there's also Junior Moon and Oh _YES_ , Louise Nash, too! My hero!"

"…" Storm was speechless. He had never heard of any of these old cars before. Just what was the point to all this?

After she was done looking, Cruz turned back to her crew chief. "You got all the racing legends!" Then her smile fell. "But it's missing a veteran…"

"Who?" Lightning asked worriedly. "I thought I was thorough."

"You Mr. McQueen!" she laughed.

What sap. Storm rolled his eyes in disgust.

"Ah," Lightning smiled, appearing touched. "It's not about me, Cruz. Maybe one day, but right now I rather the focus be on these guys-"

"How pointless."

Lightning and Cruz turned to him in surprise. "What did you say?"

"These cars are obsolete. Why do you care about building a memorial to an old world? Racing today is nothing like it was back then."

A slow wistful grin crossed Lightning's lips. "It's true the world of racing has changed," he admitted. "But not it's spirit." He nodded his head towards his trainee. "Cruz is a living testimony to that."

Storm couldn't take it any longer. "You're a nostalgic old fool."

Lightning sent him an annoyed glare. "And you act like the world owes you something!"

"It does. It owes me my day," Storm replied unblushingly. "You had your chance, McQueen, but now it's time to get in the slow lane. This is my Era now, and by the time I am done, no one will remember you and especially not the Hudson Hornet."

Cruz frowned. "Storm-"

"You ungrateful punk!" Lightning hissed. "Don't you understand that these veterans were the ones who paved the way for your generation? I get it they no longer belong on the track, but it gives you no right to trash their legacies!"

"Uh-oh, it seems I've touched a nerve," Storm chuckled darkly. "Save your water pump, gramps. What's behind doesn't matter."

"You're wrong, Storm," Lightning shook his head with pity. Storm frowned. He didn't like that look, especially if it was pity directed at him. Ha! As if someone like him needed it. "How will you know where you are going when you don't know what's behind?"

Without another word, he reversed and left the museum.

Cruz remained parked on the spot just staring at him long and hard. What could be running through her head? Did he remind her too much of the old Storm? Tch. Storm decided to cut himself some slack. It was hard to keep up his facade for so long, so he deserved to blow off some steam.

"You're being very rude, Jackson," she announced finally.

"And your friends are very annoying," he retorted. "Not to mention the town being completely hokey."

Her face crumpled into disappointment. "I thought you wanted to be here…"

"I wanted a ride," Jackson corrected her. "My stimulator is now waiting less than 50 miles away, thank you very much."

"You're leaving then?" Cruz stated more than asked.

"Soon enough," he couldn't leave, not yet. Not until he saw her tricks. "I'm not in a hurry."

Cruz furrowed her brow. "I don't really understand you…"

"Hmph," Storm huffed. He really couldn't believe she was this naive. No one was, not even nuns. "I don't get you either, Rameriz," he admitted.

She seemed even more confused. "What's there not to understand?"

"How you're so gullible."

"Excuse me?" she asked with an edge. Her ire finally showing through, how cute.

"He's wrong, you know," Storm clarified. "McQueen is filling your head with lies."

"Is that so... and what lies would that be?" Cruz demanded with a sharp edge to her tone.

"That we must look to the past. It doesn't matter what's behind us because we're the future. You can learn nothing by looking behind."

"You actually believe that," She rode closer to him until their bumpers were practically touching. "Don't you?" Cruz deadpanned.

Storm blinked when he realized this was closest he has ever been to her. "Yes, I do," he confirmed.

"And that's nail that blew out the tire!" Cruz snapped. "Mess with this Bumblebee's role models and you will get stung!" Storm reversed back a little in surprise. "You and me, outside, **NOW!** " she ordered fiercely.

Once he overcame the shock, Storm felt strangely intrigued by the feistiness she was projecting. "And what will you do with me?" he wondered.

"I'll be setting you straight, Jackson! Get ready: I'm taking you out to the track! I'm going to show you exactly what I learned from these 'obsolete' cars. So c'mon and let's get racing and see who's lying to who!"

And here it is gift wrapped and dropped right into his leather seats. Storm couldn't help but smirk in triumph, pleased that he now had a front row ticket to her training techniques. Cruz was making it just too easy for him.

"Fine," Storm agreed, trying to sound bored. He headed for the exit. "Just don't put on a poor performance or else you'll embarrass your teachers, Autobot-"

"Heeey!" Cruz followed behind him. "I had that nickname before it got cool!"


	4. Into the tulips

.

.

.

 _Life without thankfulness is devoid of love and passion… every virtue divorced from thankfulness is maimed and limps along the spiritual road._

—John Henry Jowett—

.

.

.

It was a nice afternoon, really. A steady breeze from the east with low humidity and a dry heat made it tolerable to be outside. The only thing that bothered Storm was that there was no track at Willy's Butte. It was just a clay road around a lank mark. If Storm hated anything more than Cruz's winning streak, it was dirt.

"This is it?" he a couldn't help but ask, feeling somewhat let down, but not surprised.

Lightning rolled his eyes. "What were you expecting? A stadium?"

"Something at the very least since a certain former Piston Cup Champion had made this place his headquarters years ago," Storm replies. "But hey, it's fine just the way it is: it matches the town."

Deciding not to reply, Lightning cleared his throat. "Ahem… for the start of today's training we will be taking a three-lap time trial!" he announced. "This will be a timed race so make sure to stay in your lane. That means no foul play and absolutely NO thrashing or nicking!" he empathized that bit while glaring directly at Storm. "Any questions?"

"Yeah, I got two."

Lightning looked more put out by the second. "What is it?"

"What's this "we" McQueen? I am only racing Cruz."

"I always ride along," Lightning rode over to join them at the starting line. "That's how I am able to track Cruz's time. As long I am within a fifty-foot range of you guys, I should be able to track your progress."

"Is that so?" Storm glanced over at him with false concern. "Then surely an elderly car such as yourself will have trouble keeping up with youngsters like us, will you be okay?"

Storm had expected Lightning to take offense, but he didn't. Instead, the veteran laughed, "I'll be just fine, Storm, but I suggest you worry about yourself!"

There was something ominous in his reply that Storm couldn't shake. "And my second question is what's with the tow truck?"

Lightning narrowed his eyes at him. _"Mater,"_ he corrected with noticeable irk. "Will be our flagman. Ready, bud?" he called.

"Ready!" the tow truck replied. Mater hung out the flag. He had attached a white flag to his tow cable although to Storm it looked more like a rag on a pole.

"Okay! On da count of four ya go!"

It felt good to gun it like this after spending nearly, a week in a cramped trailer. Storm revved up his engine. Ready and eager to serve McQueen and Ramirez a hot slice of humble pie. He would complete the laps, win, humiliate them at their own games and then leave town in the dustpan where it belonged.

Simple as that.

"4… 3… 2… 1… GOOO!"

When the dust settled a dark blue car could be seen still sitting at the starting line.

"…Lightnin'?" Mater gasped. "Why are ya still sittin' at the finish line!?"

"Oops, I must have blinked and missed it."

Mater couldn't help but wonder if Lightning drunk a pint from Fillmore's secret stash again. "Didja not hear me ither? I yelled go!"

"Don't worry, about it pal," Lightning rocked back and forth on his tires without a care. "Oh, and that reminds me… Mater, you have your towing cable with you, right?"

"Dun I always?" Mater asked, a little confused by Lightning's question. "Why you ask-"

A loud cry of surprised pain pierced the air from the far distance.

"OH MY GOSH!" Cruz cried out. "Storm! Are you alright?!"

"That's why," Lightning replied, thoroughly amused.

Mater's eyes bulged. "Ohhh…"

A moment later Cruz could be seen speeding on the horizon back towards them. "MR. MCQUEEN! STORM'S IN THE CACTUS!"

The smirk on Lightning's grill evolved into a full gleeful grin. "Let's go get him."

* * *

Storm's engine roared furiously as he tried in vain to reverse, but the drop was too steep and the cactus patch too thick. It only caused the sand to kick up. He coughed, trying to clear his lungs.

"You never learned how to skid, huh?" Lightning called down to him. Ugh... Cruz had apparently gone back for "help". It must have been so satisfying seeing him like this.

Storm gritted his teeth in rage. He _knew_. That muffler clot McQueen knew he would likely end up like this.

"What did you do instead?" Lightning's taunts continued. "Trained solely on how fast you can go around in a circle in virtual reality?"

"That's all that mattered!" Jackson snarled. Really it was. All their races were in an oval on a paved track. No sharp turns, no dirt, no mess. It was simply how fast you ride while staying balanced on a perfect line.

Lightning shook his head. "Speed is only a part of racing! You need skill too, that's old school basics—oh, wait, I forgot. It's nothing to learn from the past, right?"

Cruz peered over the ravine. "So, since Storm lost control and kissed cactus… does this mean I win?" she asked hopefully.

Lightning nodded. "Yep, it does."

"Yay! One for Cruz and the veteran racers!"

"Hmph. Don't let it go to your head…" Storm muttered grumpily.

"Pull him up, Mater and let's get riding!"

"Right on, Buddy!"

A second later, Storm had never felt so violated in his life. "AAACK!" Getting towed back up a hill was bad enough when Mater had pulled him back up to the ridge, Storm couldn't even meet Cruz's eyes.

"Since you're here, Mater," McQueen turned towards the tow truck. "Why don't you take over for the next part of Cruz's training?"

He gasped. "Well dadgum!" Mater cried excitedly. "You mean it?!"

Lightning nodded. "Yeah, she's eager to show you how much she's improved on her driving. Right, Cruz?"

"Sure!"

"Ugh..." this was getting beyond pathetic. "What could the tow truck possibly teach us?" Storm muttered.

Lightning was about to retort when Mater jumped in. "There's lots ya can learn from me!" He wagged his rearview mirrors like an elephant fanning itself. "I'mma the world's greatest backwards driver fer a reason!"

Storm blinked. He was what?

"Everyone to da Copperfields! On da pronto!" The tow truck took off.

"Where…?"

Lightning followed behind Mater. "We're going to do some more driving techniques, you're coming or not?"

"Sure…" he said, but Storm had never felt more unsure. How much of this was real and how much of this was a setup, he couldn't help but wonder.

"Is this really how you train?" Storm whispered to Cruz. "Or are you all trying to mock me?"

"Huh? Why would you think that?" Cruz wondered. "This is all real. I know the training is a bit… ahem, unconventional, but it really builds a racer's skill. As Mr. McQueen said, speed isn't everything."

"How did you get McQueen and the tow truck to start training you?"

"Oh, no, it's the opposite!" Cruz laughed. "Before I became a racer, I was actually Mr. McQueen's trainer! I, however, participated in his training regiment when he took me to a rural place called Thomasville. There we trained together under Smokey. It was some of best training I could have ever received! The Simulator got NOTHING on this!"

Bah, ridiculous-

But then Storm paused as he remembered Cruz _did_ come out of nowhere with nothing but this wacky training. He was already superior to her in every way so if he could survive the training, he would be put lightyears ahead of her.

"I guess this means you're going to be stuck with me, Ramirez," he told her. "I not leaving until I master everything thrown at me. Show me what these oldies can do."

The yellow coupe broke out into a wide grin. "For the first time since you've been here, I actually like the attitude you're projecting!" Cruz bopped tries with him. "Use that for the next lesson!"

* * *

Welcome to da Copperfields, home to our historic landmark of da Dolly Lolly Windmill!" Mater motioned to the aluminum monstrosity blowing slowly around and around in the breeze. "Isn't she a beauty? Been flowin' for forty years!"

"Hah…" Storm decided not to answer that.

The field was still a dirt track much to Storm's displeasure, but at least it appeared more like a course of some kind. It was fenced in with wire and rusty poles. The track was littered ramps and other obstacles. Almost like a boot camp of some sort.

"Today we race on da circuit! Yer job is to show off yer skill by stunt racin'!"

"…stunt racing?" Storm repeated. He's never heard of a thing. Was that a clown circuit? Like who took that type of racing seriously?

"Nuthing shows off a racer's skill better than a jump!" the rusty hillbilly insisted.

"I still haven't won against him," Cruz admitted. "It's pretty tough."

Currently, Cruz and the tow truck had their backs to the starting line. Storm blinked. Yep, they were still facing backward. "... Ramirez, what are you doing?"

"Come on, Storm! We're about to start!"

"Fine..." he muttered as he parked beside her. It seemed a little backward to Storm, no pun intended, but if they wanted to race the course from the finish line to starting line then who was he to object? He had agreed to this insanity the moment he stepped a tire in town. Storm glanced to the side. McQueen was sitting this one out as he appointed himself the designated flagman.

"On your mark," Lightning sounded out. "Ready, set, GO!"

Storm sped off. Manvouring around the ramps and the random cactus or boulders.

"Hey, genius hit the brakes!" McQueen ordered.

Storm broke off in mid-speed and skidded to a halt. Although he was off to a head start, Storm realized no one was behind him. He glanced to the right and then to the left. No one was beside him either.

Lightning rode over to him. "You're going the wrong way!"

The dark racer blinked. "What…?" feeling more confused and stupider by the second.

"You don't drive a course backward, you literally drive backwards!" Lightning explained with an eye-roll. That's the training: you got to race Mater's course driving backward!"

Storm's jaw dropped. "That… that's the stupidest thing that has ever come out of your mouth, McQueen!" he retorted.

Lightning sent him a challenging smirk. "Ah, but can you do it?" he replied.

Storm huffed. He would be a moron to fall for the taunt, but his pride wouldn't let him back down. "Of course, I can!" He tried to reverse. Strom managed to hold it steady until he began to swerve ten feet later.

"Watch it!" Lightning exclaimed. "You nearly backed into me!"

Once Storm straightens, he began to accelerate his pace. "Pity I missed."

"Ha, ha, you're so hilarious…" Lightning forced out a fake laugh. "Oh, and watch out for that Barrel Cactus-"

"AHHHH!" That needle ball stung worse than the pit of cacti he fell into earlier.

"Hey! You okay?" the question didn't come across as mocking, but Storm wouldn't have none of it.

"Leave me alone, McQueen!" he winced as he pulled forward, jerking himself free. "Ugh… it's… it's just a setback! Nothing to…agghh… worry about!"

He could hear Lightning scoffing again. "Fine, I guess that means you're well enough to continue," the veteran replied coolly.

"That's right, I am!" Storm ignored the pain in his rear as he continued reversing through the course. Eventually, he found his way back to the starting line and then past the mark only to back into a boulder. "Ugh!" he hissed in pain, squeezing his eyes shut. Storm heard tires driving towards him.

"Listen, for your first time, you're doing great, Storm," Lightning complimented him gently. "But you're not going to be a pro overnight. You got to ease into it-"

"I said I'm fine!" he growled. Why hasn't McQueen taken a hint?

"Stop being stubborn!" Lightning retorted. "Just listen for a second! The trick is to use your rearview mirrors-"

"I don't need counsel from a washup like you!" Storm backed around the boulder and tried to pick up the pace again only to back this time into a crater. "Grrrrr!" Storm was borderline ballistic at this point and what McQueen did next didn't help.

Lightning rode backward with ease all the while smirking at him. Storm wanted to blowtorch that stupid grin right off his face. "Say it with me, KA-CHOW!" he sped up and passed him.

"YOU!" Storm increased his speed as well. Blindly trying to catch up.

"Wait, Storm!"

"Just wait till I pass you!"

"STOP, IDIOT-"

"I'll show you! All of you morons whose-"

Storm came to a definite halt when he backed into something hard, something prickly and very, very painful. "AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!" He let out a cry that could be heard for miles around.

* * *

"Here, hold my tire," Cruz offered.

"I don't need to hold your tire!" Storm growled stubbornly. What He wanted to do is run over something, preferably McQueen's face. Why was she even here anyway? This was humiliating enough as it is, and Storm thought he had blackmail on her. If this got out in the media, he wouldn't be able to show his face for a month!

"It'll help," Cruz insisted patiently. "This is going sting a bit…"

"I said I don't—OOOW!" he howled when Ramone yanked out a large piece of cacti.

"Keep a stiff upper lip kid!" Ramone called from the other side. He was busy extracting thorns out of Storm's bumper. He yanked out several more causing the racer to wince. "Stop tensing, it makes it worse!"

The dark racer groaned as he forced himself to relax. "…how much do I have left?"

Cruz glanced behind him. She involuntarily winched at the sight. "Uh…you don't have that much…"

"You're lying aren't you?" Storm deadpanned.

"W-Why would I lie?"

"You can't even look me in the eye-eeeee!" he shrieked rather high pitched.

"Ha, ha, he sounds like a gurl!" Mater hooted.

Why was that retarded rust bucket even here? No doubt to witness his humiliation and report it back to McQueen.

Storm sent him a murderous glare. "Congrats, tow truck," he spat. "You're officially on my hit list. Right after McQueen-"

"Storm!" Cruz gashed, aghast.

Instead of being afraid for his life like he should have, Mater laughed. "Yer sure funny! Imma startin' to like you already!"

"Grrrr! Tell him to get lost already!" Storm growled to Cruz.

"Mater, will you please wait outside?" Cruz asked. "Storm needs a little privacy right now…"

"Ah, okay. I was just tryin' to keep 'im company," the tow truck wilted as he rode towards the door. "See ya back at da Coppersfields! I'll even elp ya train if ya want!" he offered and then left.

Go back? Was this truck insane?! No one in their right mind would go back to that pain course unless they were trying to land a permanent disability check. He liked all his original parts thank you very much!

"It'll be okay, Stormy," Cruz told him soothingly. "I'm right here. You are a fluffy cloud. Nothing can hurt you! Say it with me, "I am a fluffy cloud, I am a fluffy cloud!" It'll help! Now breathe!"

"Wait…" Storm interrupted her.

"What?"

"Did you just call me, Stormy?" he asked, incredulous. "… like seriously?"

"Oh, you don't like it?" she realized. "Then how about I call you, Jacky?"

Storm sent her a long, hard look.

"OOOUUCH!" he howled when Ramone extracted another thorny patch without warning. Storm reached out his axels on impulse. His tire intertwining with hers. Okay, he did touch her tire, but he did NOT grab it and he certainly did NOT need to squeeze it. He had nerves of steel, no, of titanium—"GAHH!"

"It's okay, I got you!" Cruz soothed. "Squeeze as hard as you need."

He ended up squeezing her tire the entire time. Of course, if any car asked Storm about it later, he would say otherwise.


	5. And then some-car bends unexpectedly

.

.

.

 _Friendship without self-interest is one of the rare and beautiful things in life..._

—Unknown—

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.

.

.Even after the carwash and touch up paint, Storm's freshly painted bumper was still tender to the touch. Cruz had offered to take him out to an early dinner at Flo's but after his humiliating ordeal Storm just wanted to be alone. He rode idly through town hoping to lose himself down an alley, but every road led him out to Route 66.

A yearning desire to hightail it to Los Angeles nearly overtook him. No, Storm shook his head. He wasn't a quitter. If this is what it took to beat Ramirez, then come barrel cactus or rust, he will master this! Storm made a U-turn and drove back into town.

A Volkswagen peace van was parked out near the edge of the road, looking a little too laid back. When he spotted Storm passing him by, he called out, "Hey, man, I haven't seen you before... Welcome to Radiator Springs!"

"Why thank you. It's such a displeasure being here," Storm replied with false merriment. "In fact, I just can't wait to leave!"

"Good, good," the van replied cheerfully, not really comprehending what Storm said. "So, are you a visitor or a newcomer?"

"Visitor," Storm answered. There was no way he would move to a dustpan like this.

"Then before you leave town, you gotta check out my store, Fillmore's Taste-In! I brew my own organic fuel and serve exotic drinks, but they're only for the adults of course!" he chuckled at the last bit.

"Are they like bar drinks?" Storm asked, hopeful. He could really use a shot of petroleum over the rocks right now.

"Naw, man. It's all natural and non-alcoholic, but it's just they're too potent for carriage cars."

"Oh…" Storm lost interest already, but Fillmore kept talking.

"My drinks also contain healing proprieties. Some for anxiety, others for pick-me-ups and lastly, pain relief."

Pain relief? The throbbing in his rear seemed to intensify at just the thought. Storm winced.

Upon seeing his grimace, Fillmore's eyes widened. "Whoa, you okay, man?"

"Just sore…" He gritted.

"Then I have something that can help," the van turned back towards his hut. "No charge this time alright? Just follow me!"

Maybe he would take it up on his offer, Storm decided. He really needed something to take the edge off.

Hours later...

"Where do you think he has gone…?" Cruz muttered worriedly. She turned on her headlights as she rode down the darkened streets. It was a quarter past 7 o' clock at twilight and Storm was nowhere to be found. It didn't help that he also ignored her phone calls.

"He probably ran for the interstate," Lightning interjected unhelpfully.

Cruz sent him a stern side glare. "You're not funny right now, Mr. McQueen."

Silence fell between them. They drove down another block. "You're still mad at me," Lightning acknowledged.

"A little," Cruz admitted. She turned on her blinker to go left down Main Street. "Did you have to provoke Storm the way you did?"

Lightning sighed as he followed her lead. "This isn't easy for me either..." he reminded her.

"I know it's not..." Cruz relented. "I thank you for your patience. Storm is Storm, but you...I just expected better from you," she sighed in disappointment.

Lightning wilted, feeling ashamed of himself. "Cruz, level with me..." he slowed his speed.

"Yeah?"

"Why are you doing this?"

Cruz came to halt, so did Lightning. "Because Storm and I are friends now. He can be a little edgy, but I think he means well…" she trailed, even to her, that didn't sound very convincing.

"You _think_ he means well?" Lightning sent her a skeptic look. "I said it once and I'll say it again: Getting chummy with Storm is a huge mis—what in the world...?" Lightning broke off in middle sentence. "What is Fillmore doing?"

The hippy van who is usually calm and laid back, came speeding out of his house looking wide-eyed and flustered. "Hey, Fillmore!" Lightning called out to him. "Where's the fire?"

The van paused in mid-drive. "Naw man, don't call Big Red! But I still need your help!" he beckoned them over.

"What's wrong?" Cruz asked.

"Uh I… I got a customer... met him a couple of hours ago. He was suffering from pain, so I offered him a pain reliving brew, but I um…" he lowered his voice to a whisper. "…when it didn't help I gave him some of my secret stash."

"Your …what?" Cruz blinked, not understanding what he meant.

"Fillmore!" But apparently, Lightning knew. "You know most cars can't handle that in their tanks!"

"It was an accident!" the van insisted. "He downed the whole container before I could ration it out!"

Lightning shook his head. "Just take us to your victim-"

"Customer, man! He's a customer!"

"Not for long I bet," Lightning retorted.

* * *

Fillmore lead them around back of his lounge nicknamed "The love bed." The air was heavy with incense when they enter past the beaded door. Sitting inside was a solo black car parked on one of the futons near the firepit. He swayed slightly side to side looking dazed.

Cruz rushed over to him. "Storm!" she exclaimed, but he wouldn't acknowledge her. "Jackson!" she tried again. "Are you okay?!"

"I feel…" he blinked as if he had to think of the word. "…weird…" His gray eyes were dilated as he stared off to the side of her.

"Huh?" Cruz raised a shadebrow. She glanced to her right. "Just what are you looking at?"

"…there's a pink unicar next to you…" he muttered.

"Umm, no there isn't… and unicars aren't real."

Storm blinked, but the unicar was still there. It reared back on its tires, neighing majestically. "Well, that one is real."

Lightning sighed. "Just how much of Fillmore's fuel did you drink?" he demanded.

"A gallon…"

"And there goes my evening!" Lightning grumbled unhappily. "C'mon, let's get Storm to Flo's. I think she'll have some of Sarge's sober-pacs. Cruz, support his right. Drive slowly, Storm. We got you."

Storm squinted up at Cruz. His gaze unwavering. "Your eyes…" he muttered.

"…What about them?" she wondered.

"They're a common brown," he announced.

"I know-"

"But I like them," he stated decisively.

"…uhh…" Cruz blinked at the weird compliment. "…thanks?"

Storm leaned closer to her side so that their fenders were practically touching. Cruz's breath hitched. She felt strangely flustered with him leaning in so close to her that they veered off to the left. "Storm…!" Cruz nudged him back to the right. "Watch were you're going-"

"I'm going to figure you out," he announced.

Cruz tried to scoot away. "O-Of course, you will," she replied placidly.

Storm frowned. "What's wrong? You're acting so weird…"

"Look who's talking," Lightning muttered. Watching this whole scene before him with a worried eye.

Cruz forced a smile. "That's because you crossed the line and are now invading my personal space, Jackson."

"Oh…" Storm blinked slowly, but he didn't move back. "Then where's the line?"

"It's here!" Lightning bopped his tire between the coupes. "On second thought, Fillmore, _you_ get his right! Cruz is too much of a distraction for Storm!"

Cruz fidgeted with embarrassment as she swaps places with Fillmore.

They managed to make it out the lounge and down to the gate when Storm made an abrupt stop, nearly causing Lightning to rear end him. "Hey! Why did you stop-"

"It's the unicar… IT'S TURNED INTO THE OCEAN!" Storm freaked.

One hour later...

"How are you feeling?"

"Uggh, my head hurts like I have a hangover," he complained.

Navy painted veteran nodded, apparently satisfied. "That means it's working."

"So, do you see any more unicars?" Cruz questioned him next.

Storm glared, but for once he wasn't mad at her or McQueen, he was disgusted with himself. How could he have let his guard down this bad?

"They're gone," he answered.

"And the ocean?" Lightning inquired. "See any tidal waves?"

"…just what nonsense was I jabbering?" Storm wondered aloud.

"A lot, now, answer the-"

"All dry desert now. Do I pass your sanity test now?"

Lightning and Cruz breathed a sigh of relief together.

"Good, thank the manufacturer you're back to normal," Lightning said. "Normally, I would give a car two sober-pacs, but in your condition, I gave you five."

Storm quirked a shadebrow. "Treating an overdose with another overdose?" It's official, these country bumpkins were trying to kill him. Still, at least it worked, whatever it was. "How much do I owe you for the medicine?"

Lightning shook his head. "Nothing. Sarge donated these packets for anyone who ingests too much of Fillmore's fuels. In his own words: "If you ingest that freak juice, that's payment enough!""

And Storm agreed.

Flo drove up and sat down a pint of Valvoline next to Storm. "Here's a late supper for you. It's also on the house. Eat up!"

At the sight of it, Storm looked ready to bolt. "No, I don't think so!"

"Ohohohoho, relax honey!" Flo laughed. "It's safe!"

"Really, I appreciate it," Storm insisted, "But I'm not hungry…" he shoved the can away as if it was poison. "Is there any place I can stay for the night?"

"You need to talk to Sally," Flo informed him. "She runs the town's motel called The Cozy Cone down the street. Do you need an escort?"

"I can make it on my own," Storm shifted his gears into drive and drove out from underneath the gas station's pavilion.

"Slow down!" Cruz warned him. "You're not at 100 percent yet-"

Something crunched under Storm's wheel. "What the heck…?"

"Jack!" Cruz gasped, rushing over to him. "That was Red's flowerbed!"

"Who's…?" He heard a sniffle. Storm looked up into the teary face of a fire truck. Oh, Big Red. Red's lips trembled as his watery eyes beheld his ruined flowers. "Chill bro, it's just a plant. I'll buy you another one, okay?" he offered.

The firetruck burst into tears and sped away crying.

Jackson blinked. "What just…?"

"Big Red is very sensitive," Cruz explained. "Besides, buying another plant isn't going to make up the one you squashed."

"Why not?"

Having to have seen everything, Flo called across the street. "For one thing, honey, Red has had that red begonia for years!" she glanced towards the dark blue veteran. "…ever since the last batch got ran over by a certain someone…"

"Ahem!" McQueen coughed.

Storm looked down at the crushed petals stuck to his tires. "Ugh…" he tried to shake it off. "Then I can't help him. I'm no gardener."

"You could at least apologize," Cruz insisted.

"I offered to buy him another one," Storm repeated as if that justified everything.

Cruz frowned. "That's not the same as apologizing…"

"Tch. I'll do it in the morning then!" he snapped grumpily. "Now where is the Cozy Cone?"

"The neon orange caution cone with zzzs in its sign doesn't tip you off?" Lightning muttered grumpily. He drove on ahead to the motel.

"Why is he so mad?" Storm grumbled. "It's not like McQueen had his bumper full of thorns today..."

"He was supposed to be having dinner with Mrs. Sally, but instead he spent his evening helping me look for you," Cruz explained.

Storm rolled his eyes. "You mean you blackmailed him to look for me," he corrected. It was no secret that McQueen hated his gears. The feeling was neutral.

Cruz cringed. "I might have guilted him a little…" she admitted with a nervous chuckle.

"And why are you fidgeting?" Storm demanded.

The yellow coupe jerked. "Oh! Um, nothing!" Cruz replied quickly. "Uh, ignore me!"

"I'll do just that," Storm agreed. He was too tired to care at this point. That, and his head was still killing him.

* * *

Sally had her back to them, doing some paperwork behind the desk when the trio rolled in. The doorway chimed, alerting her to their presence. "Good evening!" Sally recited pleasantly. "Welcome to The Cozy Cone, home of-"

"Hey, Sal, it's just us," Lightning told her. "We finally found the wayward car."

"Oh?" her tone brightened. Sally turned around to face them. "You mean he hadn't run away?"

"The idea was tempting," Storm admitted.

She giggled. "Well, I for one am glad you decided to stay the night. So, do you need to reserve a room, Mr. Storm?"

Storm drove forward. "Yeah. Charge it to me with this," he was about to eject a credit card from a compartment in his grill when Sally stopped him.

"No charge. I'll be putting you in your own Cozy Cone for however long you're here."

Storm blinked. Why was she being so nice to him? "…Thanks, Mrs. McQueen."

Sally slid him a barcode key. "Cone number 1," she flashed him a kind smile. She drove from around the counter and headed towards the back. "Let me go get a few necessities and then I'll show you to your room. Stickers, come with me, I need you to haul them."

"Ughhh, Sally! Haven't I done enough today?" Lightning whined as he dutifully followed her. "If I do anymore for this guy, he might start calling me Uncle McQueen!"

The couple left, leaving Storm alone with Cruz at the reception desk. They waited idly, not saying a word for the first two minutes. The gentle humming of their engines was the only sound heard in the room until Cruz spoke up. "So… do you… um… you like her?" she asked suddenly.

Storm was almost afraid to ask. "In what way…?"

"You know… ahem! Like you like-like her," she explained bashfully.

"What?" Storm's eye twitched. "No! Why would you even think that?"

Cruz ducked her head. "I'm… curious…?"

Storm shook his head. "If the fact that she is married isn't enough, then how about her being a decade older than me. Will that suffice?"

"Oh… I guess when you put it that way… that was a silly question," she seemed strangely relieved for some reason, Storm didn't know why. "But then…" she appeared confused. "…why were you staring after her so hard?"

Storm sighed. It was a good thing McQueen was distracted or else he would have jumped to the same conclusions. "I can't figure her out..." he confessed.

"Huh?"

Storm sighed again. Cruz Ramirez was indeed too simple. "I'm trying to understand why she is being so nice to me," he explained.

"Oh, that's because she's Sally!" Cruz replied as if that explained everything. "She's really nice to everyone!"

"No one is that nice," Storm huffed. "Maybe she's like that because she wants to be perceived as nice."

Cruz looked troubled for a moment. "Storm, level with me for sec..."

"What?"

"Why do you feel that everyone has an alternative motive?"

Oh, if she only knew…

"Because they do-" Storm broke off into a yawn. He couldn't help it. It really has been a long day. "…nobody does something for nothing. Not even your supposed loved ones."

"…supposed?"

Storm cringed. How did he let that slip? "Nothing!" he bites out. "You get my point!"

"No," Cruz replies calmly. "I don't."

"Goodnight, Ramirez."

Storm turned away and rode out the door, determined to wait outside if it meant a moment of peace, but the yellow coupe didn't take a hint as she followed behind.

"Jackson," she stated firmly. "I'm waiting for an explanation!"

Storm had only been around her a short time, but he noticed whenever Cruz used his first name, it meant business. "If I tell you, will you leave me alone for the night?" he compromised.

Cruz nodded. "Deal."

"When I was a carriage car, I was adopted by Maximo and Cherilyn Magnum," he chuckled bitterly when saw Cruz's face brightening. "Oh no, it's not what you think... they didn't adopt me because they wanted a son to love. They wanted me because I was an investment."

"…how exactly?"

"All the other kids had 4-cylinder engines, but me? I had a V-8 engine with 850 horsepower. They could use that, and they did."

"H-"

"No," Storm interrupted her. "No more questions. A deal is a deal."

Cruz buttoned up, but she had that glint in her eye. As soon as she gets another chance, the subject was coming up.

'Ha, ha not on your life, Ramirez.'

"Goodnight, Storm. See you in the morning." She drove past him.

Storm could play the sympathy card to his advantage, but some things were not worth exploiting. That included his past.

* * *

"I've told ya, you gotta know 'ere ya been as you roll backwards!"

Much to Storm's dismay, Mater has been true to his word as he stuck to him like a magnet trying to tutor him for the past three days. Days filled with pain and even more mishaps that lead to expensive trips to the town doc.

"And I've told you, I got it down pact!" Strom retorted, very well about to lose every last suckle of patience he had.

Once again, they were training again in the Copperfields, but in separate groups. Cruz and Lightning were working on their own session while Storm struggled to master the basics with the tow truck rattling in his ear.

"Well, well, weeeeelllll!" Mater taunted him. "If ya so darn confident den race 'gainst me!"

"Love to, bring it on tow truck!"

The backed up to the starting line and took off on the count of three. Mater was in first place as usual, but on somehow midway through the lap Storm got the lead by cutting a tight corner.

"Well Dadgum! You're gettin' better already!" Mater praised him. "But I'm 'till beatin' ya!" he easily used a ramp to air jump ahead of Storm, quickly recapture the lead.

"Trust me, I won't be out of first place for long!" Storm gritted his teeth as he accelerated his pace.

The tow truck frowned, slowing down a notch so they were side by side as they continued to reverse. "Come on, lil buddy, it's not always 'bout winnin'!" he insisted.

Maybe it was the stress that caused him to snap or maybe it was the pain. It didn't matter what pushed him over. There was a limit to how much comradery Storm could pretend in a day. "WINNING IS EVERYTHING!" he bellowed. "What does a retarded hillbilly like you know anything about that? Huh?! I bet don't even know where your hood is, do you? Idiot!"

Mater's whole frame drooped with his cable tail hanging low. Giving him the appearance of a wrongfully kicked puppy. "Yer right…" he admitted softly.

Storm almost felt guilty for yelling at Mater, but he buried his guilt. "About what?" he spat.

"Bout it all… I dun know much 'bout winning... and uh, I dunno where ma hood is…Oh, hey! Watch out for da-"

"OOOWW!" Storm cried as he backed into something hard and immovable. Darn it! At this rate he will be making Ramone a millionaire before this was all over! Just what did he back into this time?

He heard something creaking overhead. Storm glanced up. He found himself bumper to bumper with the Dolly Lolly Windmill. Only to see it waver and then slowly recede backward until it tumbled to the ground with a deafening crash. It's ugly fans in the air, seemingly unaffected by the fall.

But that didn't matter, the glaring fact was this: The town's raggedy landmark is down because of him and the tow truck, he just insulted, saw everything!

Storm swallowed slowly. "L-Listen, I-"

"Just what happened?!" McQueen came gunning over the dune.

Ugh. He is going to be yesterday's rubber by the time McQueen is done with him.

"Is everyone, okay?" Cruz asked worriedly.

Lightning took one look at the downed windmill before shouting, "Storm!" He turned an accusing eye on the dark racer automatically. "What did you-"

"It's alright, Buddy!" Mater spoke up. "I did it," he announced to the shock of the three race cars.

Lightning stopped, turning to his longtime best friend. _"You_ , Mater?"

"I was tryin' to show off a trick ta Storm when it backfired on me and ol' Dolly Came tumbling' down…"

"But you… are you alright?" Lightning asked with growing concern.

"I'mma fine," Mater replied dismissively. "Now you run along. I'll clean it up in a jiffy!"

"But, Mater, are you sure?"

"Yessire! My mess, my clean up!"

"Really, we don't mind helping you Mater," Cruz insisted this time.

"Dun worry I got it!" he shooed them off. "Ya gotta teach!" he told Lightning. "And ya gotta train!" he said to Cruz.

"Alright… we'll come back later if you still need help," Lightning offered. "C'mon, Cruz."

His trainee reluctantly followed. "Be careful, Mater… and Storm, don't overdo it."

Once they were alone again, Storm slowly approached Mater. "Hey tow…" he caught himself. The least he could do was use the guy's name. "…Mater."

"Yeah?"

"Why did you stick up for me like that?"

Mater appeared confused by the question. "Why not? Shoot! Da's wha friends do!"

Storm blinked. "… you consider me your friend?" he asked slowly, thinking he had misheard.

"Yea!" Mater's face instantly brightened. "If Cruz likes ya then da's good nuff fer me!"

"Huh…" Storm really was speechless for once. Why were these country bumpkins so nice to him? First Cruz then Mrs. McQueen and now Mater. Storm wondered if he will ever begin to understand any of these cars. "But even after all the…" Storm trailed. _Mean._ "…things I said?"

"Trainin'' is tuff," Mater replied sympathetically. "I understand if ya get frustrated and had ta blow off some steam."

"No, that's no excuse," Storm said before his brain could catch up with his mouth. "…I mean… I shouldn't have said those things to you, Mater, even if I was angry."

"Awww shucks," Mater grinned brightly. "Doncha worry 'bout it, alright? It's all oil under the fields now!" He rode over to examine the downed landmark. Was he really was going to fix someone's mess all by himself? Storm wondered. "Get back to trainin' now, ya hear? I'mma test ya later!" he called over his shoulder.

Storm turned to leave, but then something scraped at him. Was that his conscience? Wow, he didn't even know it existed until now. Storm sighed, once he realized he couldn't leave.

"Here…" Storm went behind the windmill. "I'll push, you pull. Got it?"

Mater perked up instantly. "Well dadgum! Right on lil' buddy!"

It took thirty minutes and at some points, Storm thought he would be crushed underneath the weight of the Lolly Dolly, but Mater proved to be stronger than he looked. Soon enough the ugly windmill was back in place and swinging around in the faint breeze.

"Man, do I gotta reward fer ya!" Mater hooted. "I'mma takin' you tracker tippin' tonight!"

Storm blinked. "...what is tracker tipping? Is that another training tactic?"

"Naw, it's fer fun! Ya will like it!" He promised.

But Storm should have known all promises were meant to be broken.

Hours later…

Storm was fuming. What was he thinking going with the tow truck? The fool almost got him killed by a pissed off oversized Metroactual Combine! Seriously, what did that thing eat to get that big?!

"C'mon, admit it! Ya had fun!" Mater bopped Storm's side.

The dark racer sent him a disgruntled look. "Running for my life is never fun," Storm scoffed. "If the highlight of your night is getting trackers to toot-" Mater snickered gleefully. "-then I'm never going out with you ever again!"

Instead of remaining on the route heading back into town, Storm turned off to the left.

"Where ya going?" Mater wondered.

"Back to the Copperfields. There's a light there thanks to the lamp fixtures."

"But ya practiced all afternoon today! Doncha think ya need a rest?"

"I'll rest when my battery's dead!" Storm retorted. "I need to master this!" he determined. "I cannot move on until I do."

Like the levels Ray used to set for him. He couldn't move on to the next course on the simulator until he mastered the basics. It was bred in him from the start of his rookie career and now that's how Storm rolled in life on and off the track. He only had two weeks to master Cruz's wacky techniques and every moment counted.

Suddenly a large beam of light appeared behind them.

"IT'S FRANK! HE'S LOOSE!" Mater yelped. He gunned his engines, leaving behind a trail of smoke. "RUUUNN!"

Storm squinted his eyes. No, it couldn't be the bull. While being large in size as Frank, the vehicle was too narrow. It looked to be a semi-truck. Could it be Cruz's hauler? What was his name? Oh, Mack. That's right. "Hey, Mack!" he called out. "You're blinding me! Kill the brights!"

Instead of baby blue paint, there was only darkness. The semi rode forward. Her black paint helped her to blend easily into the cover of night. "Finally, I've found you, Storm," she commented.

"Gale…it's you," Storm drove forward to greet his hauler. "How did you find me?"

"GPS, sir."

Storm was instantly creeped out by her answer. He was aware his stats were being recorded at all times, but to be tracked like a pet dog without his knowledge or permission, angered him. Slate… That control freak of a CEO. Only the manufacturer only knew what else was installed under his hood.

"I am under direct orders from Mr. Slate to bring you to the Los Angeles INTGR research facility for training," Gale informed him. "Can you leave tonight?"

"No, I'm staying in Radiator Springs for now."

"You know our boss doesn't like to be kept waiting, Storm," Gale warned him.

Storm rolled his eyes. "Slate can throw his usual tantrum for all I care."

Gale raised a shadebrow at his nonchalant attitude. "That's fine indeed if his ire is not directed at you."

"Will you relax, Gale? I't'll be fine!" Storm insisted. "I only plan to be here a short while, okay?"

"For how long?"

"A week. Maybe two."

"That won't work," Gale replied without hesitation. "I think we may have a grace period of three days tops. And that includes our drive time."

His hauler had a soft spot for him, but it didn't outweigh her judgment. So Strom compromised, "How about this, Gale, I'll do some practice on the simulator while I am here and all my practice data on it will be automatically submitted to the lab. That should pacify him for a couple of extra days. Give me a week, alright?"

Seeing her rider wasn't going to budge, Gale relented. "…Alright," just make sure to practice, okay? Climb aboard, while I head into town for the night."

"Alright."

Once inside, Storm finally logged into the machine. He completed three courses before calling it quits. The stimulator just didn't feel real anymore. Not since he hit the dirt. He needed a wash every night, but it was worth it. He turned off the machine and backed out of the wheel brackets.

"You're done, already, Storm?" Gale seemed surprised by his odd behavior.

"For tonight, I am," he hit the latch pad, but the door did not open. Storm sighed, "What is it, Gale? Want me to do another course?"

"No, that's not it. Storm if I may ask, what are you doing out here?"

"It's all part of the plan, Gale"

"...a plan...?"

"For me to take down Ramirez. She and her crew chief are idiots for letting me come along. I'm learning all her tricks to get my winning streak back once and for all."

Gale said nothing for a while, before letting out a sigh. "That's a pity hear…" she lamented.

"Why?"

"I thought you finally made a friend, but it's just another one of your schemes..." She shook her head. "Where does it end?"

"When I am on top."

"But what good is the top when you're all alone?"

"So, what?" Storm demanded. "I've always been alone."

"Oh, so I'm not here either?" she demanded a bit frostily.

"Gale, you're taking it out of context!" Storm tried to smooth things over, but his hauler wasn't having it.

"Out of the mouth speaks the heart," she recited.

"So poetic," Storm sneered. "Are you taking philosophy?"

Gale dropped the subject. She knew him better than anyone else at INTGR. Once Storm turns snarky with his replies, the less he is acceptable to reason. So instead she lowered the door of his trailer.

"Good luck with your training, Mr. Storm. One week from tonight, we're gone."


	6. Something is changing

.

.

.

 _There is a place you can touch a woman that will drive her crazy. Her heart..._

—Melchor Lim—

.

.

.

"Concentrate…" Cruz heard Storm mutter to himself.

If she was still a trainer, Cruz would have liked coaching Storm. He was a hard worker. If he wasn't in the Copperfields then he was at Willy's Butte trying to ace that sharp turn, but he always spins out of control. Like just now, Storm dangled on the ridge, just barely keeping himself from going head first into the cactus pit.

Cruz drove up behind Storm. "Still trying?"

"Doing," he corrected her arrogantly.

Cruz mentally rolled her eyes. "Whatever you say..." she parked herself to the side to watch.

"Do you know where Mater is?" Storm asked suddenly, trying to sound casual about it and failed.

Cruz couldn't help but tease him. "Miss him?"

"Tch," Storm scoffed. "He still owes me a race and I haven't seen him around for a couple of days."

Cruz shrugged, not alarmed at all since Mater's absences were usually work-related. "Dunno, but I imagined he had a hauling job that took him out of Carburetor County."

"Oof!" Storm reversed from the ledge only to back into a carter. "…this is hardly a setback," he muttered sheepishly, not meeting her eyes.

The yellow coupe nodded. "Of course," she agreed with him. Although her reply was sincere, Storm must have thought she was mocking him by the narrowing of his shades.

"Argh! I thought I had the technique down pact this time!" he vented. "Level with me, Ramirez! What exactly do I have to do?"

Cruz blinked. "What do you mean?"

"What's the trick, the formula! Tell me already so I can calculate how to beat it!"

Cruz shook her head. "It's not something you can put into a formula, Storm. It's all about learning to move by instinct and skill alone."

He blinked slowly, apparently not understanding what she said.

Cruz drove up beside him. "Here, I'll show you," Cruz grounded her tire into the dirt. "Like this, you must embrace the track."

He sent her an incredulous look. "…excuse me?"

"Let the road steer your tires as you ride along the track. Hug it like... um," She paused to think of an example. "Oh! like how you would embrace a friend."

Strom sent her annoyed look.

"Not me!" Cruz decided to try again. "More like how you would embrace a girlfriend or your lover... ...um, lovers as in plural-"

"Just what kind of guy do you think I am?" Storm demanded, taking offense. "I'm not dating any cars!"

"You're... not attached?" Cruz blinked. Jackson, despite his dark persona, was a very attractive car. It seemed a bit strange to think he was somehow still single.

"No, I am not. I got more important things to do like winning championships than wooing fangirls. Now please get out of my personal life!"

"Right! Sorry! But as I was saying: Embrace! The trick is to curve and flow with the path. And that's your problem!"

Strom scoffed. "I don't have a problem-"

"You do, Storm!" Cruz retorted. "You want to dominate everything! You don't like giving up control at all!" His features slacked, her words sinking in. Hopefully not in a bad way. But just in case, distraction! Cruz started to bounce on her tires. "It's a game of give and take!" she sung to a beat.

Jackson's jaw dropped. "…You got to be kidding me…"

"Nope! You cannot take controoool... you just gotta give!" she continued to sing to the tune of the Supremes. "You gotta trust this track no matter how steep it gets-"

"Stop singing!"

"Alright!" Cruz laughed. "But you get my point though, right? If you ever forget, remember the song!"

"Tch," he mumbled grumpily. "As if I can get your voice out of my head..."

"Time to meet it, greet it and defeat it!" Cruz encouraged him. "Now stay put and watch me!"

Cruz drove back to a good distance and then accelerated, speeding towards the cliff. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Storm gaping with reluctant awe as she effortlessly glided around the sharp turn. On the return, Cruz slowed down and swiveled back around.

"Just how did you learn to skid like that?" he marveled.

"I picked it up by watching Mr. McQueen. When we got caught up in a Demolition derby he told me to "Turn right to go left"," Cruz chuckled at the memory. "When I asked what he meant, all he explained was that I had to "Break it hard and let it loose"."

"That makes absolutely no sense whatsoever," Storm stated decisively.

"Tee-hee! It didn't make much sense to me either at the time, but I kept watching him. I learned so much in a short matter of time…" Cruz's face fell suddenly. "…which is not fair…"

"How is it not fair?"

She sagged down sadly on her tires. "I was the one who was supposed to be training _him_ … not the other way around. Mr. McQueen should have won the Florida 500, not me."

"And you feel guilty about _that?"_ Storm realized with disbelief.

"A little," Cruz admitted. "It was his last shot and he gave it away to me…"

"Well, you shouldn't feel an ounce of remorse," Storm stated. "McQueen was yesterday's rubber and he knew it. But you had the potential to do something. That's why he gave his number to you."

"…" Cruz didn't say a word about it. She rode over to the edge of the plateau to look out over the horizon. Nothing to be seen but the vast blue sky with a few straggling clouds. In the valley below were some tumbleweeds rolling about in the wind. "You know who invented the skidding technique?" she asked out of the blue.

Storm huffed, no doubt annoyed by her changing the subject. "No, who did?"

"Rivers Scott. His opponents were always faster and larger than him. Scott used it to his advantage. He skidded around his opponents like a raging river on tight turns to take the lead, hence his nickname."

"What was his name before the technique?"

"Oh," Cruz perked up at his question. "Are you curious now?"

"A little," Storm admitted.

"Well, his real name is Wendell Oliver Scott. I hope you can meet him one day."

"In the afterlife…?" he wondered.

"No, in Thomasville, silly!" Cruz laughed.

"Wait… he's still alive?" Storm blurted.

"Yeah, I was surprised too!" she confessed. "Every single one of the Piston legends!" Her smile fell. "…except for Mr. Hudson. C'mon, let's go again."

They did some more practice laps. Slowly Strom was making some progress. On the final lap, he began to skid across the inside instead of hitting the brakes.

"Break it loose! Break it loose!" Cruz chanted. "Alright! Good job! You'll be mastering this in no time!"

"Was there any doubt?" Storm scoffed. "I am the best of the new generation after all."

Cruz rolled her eyes. "And you're so modest about it too."

"Just stating a truth," Storm replied, completely unabashed. "But thanks for showing me how it's done, teach."

"…Wait," Cruz hit her brakes. "… _what_ did you just say?"

Strom glared. "Don't push it, Ramirez," he growled.

Cruz laughed. "It's just quite a shocker! I hope my ears don't deceive me...?"

Storm appeared to be unamused, but he indulged her anyway. "Thanks for showing me how to skid," he repeated. "Hope you heard that one, I won't be saying it a second time."

"You're welcome, Jackson-"

" _Hamilton here!"_ chirped Cruz's personal assistant.

"Huh?" Cruz muttered distractedly. "What is it?"

" _You have a visual call from Racelott, Chase. Miss. Ramirez."_

"Oh, it's Chase? Then proceed, Hamilton."

A little screen extended from her grill and up popped a small screen showing a neon green painted racer. "Yo, yo, yo! What's up, Bumblebee?" he greeted.

"Hi, Chase!" Cruz grinned widely at her friend. "I'm doing great. How are things going on your end?"

"Just chilling at my homestead of New Jersey. How-" he broke off in mid-sentence when he noticed the car parked right behind her. "Is… is that Jackson Storm? He's actually with you?!"

Cruz glanced back at Storm. "Yeah… why?"

"Whoa, _whooooa_ , WHOA!" Chase hooted. "There were rumors going about him leaving town with you but I didn't believe it till now!"

"Rumors?" Cruz blinked. This didn't sound good. Especially if cars were passing around the wrong type of gossip.

Storm gnashed his teeth. "Yes, Racelott," he demanded menacingly. "What kind of rumors?"

"Eh, n-never mind that for now!" Chase quickly dismissed. "Listen, the reason why I called is that I was elected by the bros tell you about Cam Spinner."

"Oh, how is Cam?" Cruz wondered. "Is he out the hospital yet, or do we have to send another flower bonnet?"

Chase suddenly looked depressed. "Naw, Spinner is getting out in three days… besides… I doubt he'll want visitors…"

"What do you mean by that?"

"Spinner's done, Cruz. He got canned today."

Cruz gasped with horror, but Storm didn't even blink. "I'm amazed he lasted long as he did," he commented dryly.

"But why?!" Cruz begged to understand. "Cam's stats were amazing! He-"

"Who cares about stats when he keeps costing the sponsors money without wins?" Chase retorted, shocking Cruz into silence.

"Cam wrecked at the Florida 500, the very first race of the season and then wrecked again in the last race as soon as he got back!" He shook his head sadly. "Cam's sponsor assessed his racing history with the cost of his repair bills and downtime. They decided it would be more cost effective to cut Spinner lose."

"..."

"... are you still with me, Bumblebee?"

"This... this is just so terrible! How is Cam taking it?"

Chase's eyes fell. "Not well at all…"

"Can he get another sponsor?"

"Doubtful. My homeboy couldn't even land himself in the top twenty last year… even that veteran racer McQueen finished in the top ten before he retired… why would anyone want to back Cam when they can pick out another potential champ from the pool?"

"But it's still not fair!" Cruz insisted. "Racing in the Professional League was Cam's dream! What will he do now?"

"Cam just needs little time off and some soul searching, but he'll be fine. Perk up, Bumblebee, please?" Chase pleaded. "I hate seeing you distraught!"

Cruz forced a smile upon her lips. "I'll try. Thanks for telling me, Chase."

"No prob. I still got several calls to make, chow!" he hung up.

Cruz sighed sadly. "Well… that was heavy…"

"I'd say," Without sympathy, Storm recited the old saying, "Once you crash, you can't go back."

Cruz glared at him. "That's a cruel thing to say."

"It's the truth-"

"It's not!" Cruz exclaimed passionately.

"Then name one," he dared her. "What racer has led a successful career after a major crash?"

She couldn't think of one off the top of her head. "A racer is not done after a crash happens, there's a lot left in them! It's the world, cars like _you_ , who don't give them a chance! Now, if you excuse me, there is a carwash and a nice pint of Mobil with my name on it."

Cruz turned to drive away, but Jackson called out, "H-Hey, wait! Maybe you can convince me otherwise!"

Okay, this time her ears really were deceiving her. "…excuse me?" Cruz asked, looking back at him. She twitched at what she saw. Jackson was smiling. Actually _smiling_. It was not the smug, self-assured smirk of triumph he used for the press, it was gentler. The corners of his mouth curled up, showing his pearly white teeth.

"Let's talk about that over dinner at that new place, El Monto's," he offered charmingly. "Just the two of us. It'll be my treat."

Did... did he seriously just asked her out?

Cruz gulped, her water pump began to overheat. "J-Just the two of us…?" she couldn't believe it.

Storm chuckled as he rode closer, obviously liking the effect he was having on her. "Yes, I want to spend some alone time with you, Cruz."

"…as…?" she asked quietly.

"I would like to explore that," he replied smoothly as a new freshly polished hubcap.

"Ah… ha… I…" Cruz flustered. "…a-are you for real!?" she shrieked out, much to her embarrassment.

"I've grown to like you, Cruz," he confessed. "You know, as in the _like-like_ you."

Was she dreaming? This certainly felt like a dream! 'Wake up, Cruz! Wake up!' she chanted to herself, but nothing vanished. "On my Manufacturer, this _is_ real!" she muttered aloud. Storm sent her a weird look. "I-I'm flattered, Jackson, but I doubt this even appropriate!"

Storm looked unconvinced. "But aren't we both consenting adults?" he questioned. Cruz reared back a couple of feet. At her action, Storm veered his eyes away looking disappointed. "Then we go as friends," he regened. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable-"

"A little late for that!" Cruz squeaked.

"Then you won't be going-"

"I-I didn't say that!" Cruz exclaimed before her brain could catch up. "It caught me unprepared is all! Just, um, just let me clear it with my crew chief, okay?"

Storm's entire face darkened. "Do you really have to get your crew chief's approval just to go out with a friend for a pint of oil?" he asked, incredulous.

"It's for the best, I don't want him getting the wrong idea if we are alone together!" Cruz exclaimed and then waited.

Cruz expected Storm to start getting pushy and manipulative at this point. She was ready for that. That is what the old Storm would do after all, but the response she got was pleasantly unexpected: a graceful nod.

"Alright, I'll be waiting at Flo's if you're still coming."

"Oh…" Cruz blinked with amazement, secretly impressed by his behavior. "…um, okay!" she brightened, unable to keep a grin spreading across her cheeks.

* * *

Since he didn't have an internal phone, the fastest way to find Lightning was to ask Mrs. Sally. While home in Radiator Springs, Lightning never strayed too far away from his "Blue Jay".

Cruz drove up into The Cozy Cone's front office. Sally was sitting at the front desk managing endless paperwork. Cruz winched just watching her. She hated jobs that required parking the brakes and pushing paper.

"Hi Mrs. Sally!" she greeted her cheerily. "Is Mr. McQueen around?"

"Oh, evening, Cruz! He's in the musk shield."

Cruz raised a shadebrow. She never knew why Sally called the late Doc Hudson's garage that. It never smelt musky to her. "Okay, thanks!" as she rolled around to leave, Sally called out, "Wait, wait a second!"

Cruz put her gears into reverse. "What is it, Mrs. Sally?"

"You are practically glowing!" Sally told her.

Cruz raised a skeptic shadebrow. "I… I look pregnant?" she wondered. The only cars who received compliments like that were expectant mobiles or cars that had just gotten a fresh wax and shine.

"Oh no, no!" the Porsche laughed. "And you better not be!" she added jokingly.

"I'm not!" Cruz swore. "I've never been with another car like that!"

"Anyway, what I meant is that you look happy! Just what happened, today?"

"Oh, it's... it's Jackson," Cruz admitted shyly. "He wants to take me out to El Monto's... _no_ , Mrs. Sally don't give me that look! We're going as FRIENDS only!"

"Yeah, okay," Sally replied with a wink. "Then I wish you well on your _friendship_ date, Cruz, but good luck trying to persuade Stickers to let you go if that's what you want to speak with him about."

Cruz froze. She wanted his approval at first, but now she realized it will be an unavoidable fight. Maybe she should renege and sneak away with Jackson. No! What was she thinking? She couldn't do something like that.

Sally came out from behind the counter. "Hey, it'll be okay," she soothed her. "If you can get through Lightning, then I will keep him preoccupied this evening without fail, alright?"

"How will you do that?"

"Heh, he," Sally chuckled merrily. "Let's just say I got a surprise for him!"

"What is it?" Cruz wondered.

"Lightning deserves to know first, but you will know in a little while," she promised. "Now get going! Everything will be fine!"

But it wasn't fine...

"Mr. McQueen, I'll be alright!" Cruz insisted for the tenth time. "It's just one pint!"

"But it's with _Storm!"_ he rebutted.

"I'm aware of that," Cruz rolled her eyes. "Thank you Captain Obvious…" she muttered under her breath.

Lightning narrowed his eyes. "What did you just-"

"Listen, Mr. McQueen, I just wanted to let you know, so please stop being so paranoid!"

"I am not paranoid! I am concerned and rightly so! Storm slammed you against a wall! You remember that, don't you?!"

Cruz frowned. "...why are you bringing that up? That was such a long time ago Mr. McQueen!"

"Did he ever apologize for it?" he challenged.

Cruz fell silent. No, Storm hadn't, but that was behind them now. Storm has reached out trying to be friends with her and she was glad for his friendship. He's still had some _issues_ , but he was slowly changing into something for the better. Now their friendship could be possibly going in another direction. She wanted to explore that.

"Trust me on this kiddo, don't let your guard down around Storm. He's up to something!"

"Up to what?" Cruz demanded, completely frustrated. "Except train, he hasn't done anything!"

"Don't you think it's weird for him to suddenly befriend you out of the blue?" Lightning insisted. "And now he's taking you out on a date? It's suspicious if you ask me!"

"Taking me out? We're not dating Mr. McQueen! I am just getting a pint of oil at El Monto! I'll see you in a few, alright?" Cruz turned to leave the shed when she heard Lightning call out to her.

"Cruz!" he pleaded one last time. "Don't go!"

"But… I want to go…" she whispered. And she drove off. Simple as that.

Feeling numb, Cruz rode down to Ramone's House of Body Art shop. Luckily, the Chevrolet Impala low-rider was free of customers at the moment. "Mr. Ramone, I need a favor…"

"It's just Ramone," he reminded her. "And what can I do for you today?"

"I would like to get a quick wax. I am going out… with … with a friend."

"Ohhh a friend, eh?" he asked with a glint in his eyes. "Does this friend happen to be Storm?"

Cruz couldn't meet his eyes. "I… I just want to look nice, alright?"

Ramone winked at her. "Girl, I got you! You don't have to say another word, Ramone is going to fix you up nicely! Come on into the color room and put these on your tires!" He tossed her some wheel coverings.

"Wait, you're spraying me down?" Cruz asked confused. "But I only asked for-"

"It'll look better than a quick wax and it will only take a few minutes. I will spray you with a temporary gloss, alright? It will wash off in a couple of days. Promise!"

Cruz grinned. "That's perfect! Let's get started then. I got a date to keep—I-I-I-I mean my rendezvous, NO! I mean I can't keep him waiting! AGH!" she was turning into such a wreck. "Ah-ha…ha… j-just ignore me, alright? Forget I even said those things!"

"Suuuuure I will," Ramone chuckled Ahh, it's poetic, really, young love~" the telephone ranged in the background. "Oh, let me get the phone first! Just hang tight for a second, dear." He drove out the room.

Cruz blinked, feeling stunned. "…Okay…" she slipped on the wheel covers Ramone had given her.

Was Mr. Ramone serious when he said what was between her and Jackson was _love?_

'Is that what love does… cause division?' Cruz thought sadly. Remembering Lightning's objection to Storm. Mr. McQueen was turning into a father figure these past few months and disobeying him never sat right with her. She was raised from childhood to always obey her parents.

And now look at her.

She had betrayed her mother by quitting her secure job as a trainer and now she is betraying Mr. McQueen by being with Storm. Is this what you did when you love someone? That you are willing to break the hearts of the ones you love for something or someone else you loved even more?

As Cruz contemplated this, Ramone returned. "Cruz…" he drove back into the garage with a solemn look on his face. "…you may have to reschedule that date of yours…"

"Why?" Cruz panicked. "Just who was on the phone?"

"It was my client, Otis," Ramone's face looked pensive as he continued, "He's a lemon who wanted some auto work done by yours truly. So, Mater was supposed to drive up to Northern California to have him towed here to my shop."

"And?" Cruz asked urgently, the pit of her tank began to roll something fierce.

"He was supposed to be here today for an appointment, but According to Otis, Mater still hasn't even shown up…" Ramone explained, growing visibly more concerned. "…that isn't like him… and with that gang driving about, what were they called again? Oh, yeah, the Nut and Bolt Flickers-"

Cruz snorted.

"This isn't a laughing matter, Cruz! They are in an underground parts trafficking ring who are on the FBI's wanted list! If they got their hooks on Mater, they would sell him for scrap!"

Cruz gasped in horror at hearing this. She hurriedly threw off the brown-papered wheel covers. "I'm going to get Mr. McQueen! He'll know what to do!"


	7. When darkness falls

.

.

.

 _I don't know where you are, but I miss you. I don't know what you're doing, but I'm thinking of you._

—London Mond—

.

.

.

It seemed Ramirez did have a soft spot for him, an ooey-gooey one. Storm felt quite pleased with himself as he watched Cruz drive off giddy as a tween. But his cocksure grin slowly faded away when he realized he had never been on a date before. Social outings, yes, but never a one on one dating. What is he supposed to say or how does he even act? A sudden idea popped into Storm's head. "Gale…!" she was a girl, so he could ask her.

Storm hightailed it back to Radiator Springs to find his hauler.

* * *

Sally hummed a cheerful tune as she wheeled around the guest room she recently vacated of office supplies. Those were sent down into the basement. So many ideas popping up in her head like where to put the crib and what color to order the drapes in.

"Sally, where are you!?" Lightning called urgently. "Sally!"

"I'm in here!"

Lightning came speeding in. "Sal! I was wondering if you like to go out tonight?" he asked her abruptly.

"I would love to," Sally turned to him with surprise. "…but what has brought this on so suddenly?"

Lightning winched slightly instantly making Sally suspicious. "What? I can't surprise my wife with a romantic dinner at a newly opened restaurant and a scenic midnight drive?"

So that's what this is all about, she realized. "Of course you _can't!"_ Sally replied cheerily. "Especially if it happens to be El Monto's. The same place where Jackson is taking Cruz-"

"Oh come on! I'm going with _you_ , not my protege!"

She smiled sickeningly sweet at her husband. "Can't tell."

"Sally!"

"No, Stickers, you gotta trust her! She's an adult, just as you are. And what are adults supposed to do? Mind their business."

Sally was treated to the sight of legendary 95 pouting. Lightning turned his eyes away from her as he muttered angrily, "Just what does she see in him?"

"I cannot say," she shrugged. "But when I see Jackson Storm, I do see a younger Lightning McQueen-"

"WHAT?" Lightning demanded. "Come on Sal, I wasn't _THAT_ bad!"

"Hm, you weren't? Oh-ho! That's debatable," she giggled. At seeing his dejected face, Sally reneged a bit. "Ahhh don't feel so bad! You certainly have come around, then why not Storm?" she reasoned.

Lightning sighed. "Okay, I was cocky and selfish…" he trailed.

Sally waited for him to continue. "Annnnd…"

" _And_ stupid…" he admitted. "But I was no Storm! Storm is just… he's dark, Sal. He's a sadistic, underhanded sociopath and he will end up hurting Cruz for this own gain!"

"Lightning!" Sally chided him. "Do you know these things for certain?"

"…Technically no, but we can't trust him, Sal! He's-"

"Then why are you calling him a sociopath?"

"What else do you call someone who uses emotional manipulation on his opponents just to secure a win?" Lightning retorted. "And if he doesn't get his way, gets violent?"

Sally had nothing deflect that. "…Well, maybe that was the old Storm and not the one we've come to know here at Radiator Springs," she insisted.

Lightning rolled his eyes. "Yeah? And I'm a corvette!"

"Give him a chance at least, just one," Sally pleaded quietly. "Cruz has."

Lightning slumped, looking defeated. "…Argh! Just the memory of him shoving Cruz into a wall…!" Lightning trailed with an angry hiss. "I don't want her to get hurt again! Especially if she gets romantically involved with him. She'll come out worse than before!"

Sally nuzzled his fender gently. "I know you're protective of her, but Cruz is smart girl. She will be fine, okay?"

"Besides her lousy taste in boyfriends sure, she's juuust fine."

Sally raised a challenging shadebrow.

"Ugh, okaaay, okay!" Lightning agreed reluctantly. "I'll leave the dysfunctional couple alone! Are you happy?"

"Very," she kissed his cheek.

Lightning's tires sagged beneath him in contentment. "Thanks for setting me straight, Sal, I love you."

"And as always, I love you more."

"We're still going out," Lightning stated decisively. "It'll just be to our usual spot at Wheel Well."

Sally brightened. "I'll be delighted to go! Besides… I got a surprise for you tonight!"

Lightning wiggled his shadebrows. "The good kind?" he asked huskily, coming in for a nuzzle.

"Settle down, Stickers, it's a different kind of good!" Sally giggled. "Listen up! I've had some oil work done by my doctor when I was in LA a couple of weeks ago and she found something wonderful!"

"Like what?"

"We're having a carriage car!" This wasn't exactly how she planned to tell Lightning, it was a little too boring, but an opportunity was an opportunity.

Lightning blinked. His face going blank from shock. "A… a carriage car…?" he muttered with disbelief.

"Yes, a carriage car," Sally confirmed patiently.

He blinked again. "I'm… a dad…?"

Sally rolled her eyes. "No, Mater's the dad."

That snapped Lightning out of his stupor. "… **WHAT?!** " he yelped.

"Kidding, just kidding!" Sally laughed at his outburst. "Sorry for the bad joke!"

"This … this is amazing! You're amazing, Sal!" Lightning exclaimed happily. "I never thought I would become an actual dad!" Lightning pulled up next to Sally's side, pressing against her side door. "So, how's the little guy coming along in there?"

"It's too soon!" Sally chuckled. "You won't be hearing anything in there for several months and I, personally, am hoping for a girl!"

"We got to celebrate this and tell EVERYONE-"

"MR. MCQUEEN!" Cruz speed into the room. She slammed on her breaks to avoid hitting the couple by mere foot.

Lightning turned to her in surprise. "Cruz, have you come back to repent of your wayward ways?" he asked hopefully.

Sally raised a shadebrow. " _Really,_ Stickers, you would ask _that?"_

Not losing hope, Lightning chirped, "Worth a shot."

"…w-what the…?" Cruz heaved, trying to catch her breath. "No, Mr. McQueen! It's Mater! I've come to tell you that he's missing and-"

"Missing? Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Lightning exclaimed. "Slow down, Cruz! Mater left town a couple of days ago to go pick up Otis. He told me about it days ago. Mater should be back soon-"

"But he never made it to Otis!" Cruz exclaimed.

Lightning and Sally's jaws dropped.

"Well, maybe he's just running a day behind…" Lightning tried to reason.

"But has he ever run behind before?" she challenged.

Sally shook her head. "No, Mater is pretty punctual."

"Mr. Ramone is afraid something may have happened to him! We need to look for him right away!"

"And there goes our evening again…" Lightning lamented, glancing over at Sally.

"Don't worry," Sally pacified him. "We'll make time before the carriage car comes."

"Carriage car…?" Cruz blinked. She looked back and forth between Lightning and Sally several times before it clicked. She pointed a shaking tire at Sally. "A-Are you guys expecting…?"

"Yep."

"Ohh…!" Cruz had to cover her mouth to keep from squealing. "Congratulations! When is it due?! When is it due?!" she asked excitedly.

Sally grinned. "This coming January."

"January!?" Lightning balked at hearing this. "W-We only have six months to prepare for a carriage car?!" he panicked.

Sally rolled her eyes. "Settle down before you blow a gasket! That's plenty of time!"

"But Sal, there's so much to do!" Lightning insisted. "The crib! Supplies! What if—Mmpphf!"

Sally pressed her tire to Lightning's lips. "The baby's due during off season so we have plenty of time to prepare," she stressed. "But we'll discuss that all later: right now, Mater's safety is our top priority!"

"O-Oh, right, Mater!" Lightning remembered. "Yeah, let's get going!"

* * *

Storm found Gale in town conversing with Mack. The hauler who normally kept to himself was talking lively with her. Gale, on the other tire, seemed a bit reserved. It was easy to tell she wanted out of the conversation like yesterday.

And Storm obliged her. "Hey, Mack!" he greeted Cruz's hauler first, trying to sound upbeat. "Nice to see you back in town so soon!"

"Yeah, Dinoco only wanted to do some scheduled maintenance on Cruz's trailer and it was all done in a jiffy!" Mack replied. "Besides the Relight Festival is within the week. I wouldn't miss it for nothing!" He sent a sidewise wink to Gale who did her best not to cringe. "I was telling this lovely semi all about it!"

Gale sent him a shaky grin. "…Yes, he has. It sounds lovely… but I am not sure if Mr. Storm will attending-"

"Well, that's exactly what I wanted to speak to you about!" Storm lied. "Got a minute?" he was already rolling down the road.

"Got to go talk to my boss," Gale excused herself.

"No problem," Mack replied easily. "I will be seeing you later ma'am, rawwrr!" trying to sound sexy and failed.

Gale visibly cringed this time. "Right…"

Once they were out of earshot, Gale asked, "Is that what you really wanted to speak to me about?"

"No," Strom deadpanned. "That was a rescue attempt."

"Oh thank you, sir!" She breathed a sigh of relief. "Mr. Mack is a bit too old for me but I didn't want to see rude by blowing him off."

"Gale," Storm did a u-turn to face her. "I need your um, advice…" he asked nervously.

"Yes, Mr. Storm?"

He muttered something.

"What…?" Gale squinted her eyes as she leaned forward. "I can't hear you…"

"…what do girls like?!" Storm gritted louder.

She blinked. Caught off-guard by his question. "…excuse me?"

"I'm taking Ramirez out this evening," Storm explained reluctantly. "I want to lower her guard by wooing her. What do I have to do?"

"That's... what you wanted me for?"

"Yeah. So, can you give me some pointers?"

"Ohhhhh no I won't!" Gale shook her head. "Don't get me involved in this! I want a clean conscious when all this is over!"

Storm rolled his eyes. "Gale, c'mon-"

"Don't _Gale,_ me, mister! I will not help you to break an innocent maiden's heart!" She declared passionately. "Her heart is like a fragile spring flower and the bitter frost kills it with the icy breath of betrayal!"

Storm blinked up at her. "You… really do write poetry, don't you?"

The semi suddenly seemed sheepish. "Not that it's any of your business…" she sniffled. "But… yeah, I do."

"As a hobby?"

"When I get some free time..."

"That … that was pretty good… you should write more… Gale, give me a verse to quote-"

"Stop trying to butter me up, Storm! And _NO!_ I will not help you!"

"Fine… be that way," Storm grumbled under his breath. "Hey Mack!" he yelled to the Dinoco hauler down the street. "Gale says she can't wait to go to the festival with you!" He then burned rubber, escaping Gale's wrath within an inch of his spoiler.

'Think of romance. Think of romance…' he got nothing. Ugh. Okay, what to guys to when they try to woo a girl…? They always brought presents, Storm remembered from the sitcoms and movies he watched growing up. Cheesy as it was, that seemed to be standard protocol.

"Oh yeah, girls love flowers too, right?" Storm muttered to himself. "I wonder who's the Florist in town?"

And when he found out who, he was immediately discouraged. "…Big Red," he muttered with dread. Seeing the firetruck completing flower arrangements in the window of the Florist Shop. "Here goes nothing… Hi there, Red!" Storm did his best to sound friendly. "I was wondering-"

WHAM!

The guy slammed the garage door on him and even flipped the sign from open to closed.

"Sheesh… and he holds a grudge!" Storm grumbled as he turned away, only to be faced with Ramone's grill. Storm blinked. How did the guy even drive up without a sound? "What are you-"

"There you two are!" the Chevy sounded agitated. "It's about time I've found you, sheesh! This town ain't that big, bro, how do you manage to hide in it?"

"Ramone… what am I needed for what?"

"I'm calling a town meeting!" Ramone banged his tire on the locked door. "Red, c'mon! This includes you, too!"

"I got better things to do tonight than to attend a stuffy old meeting," Storm snapped impatiently.

"Well, I hope you can spare us some of your valuable time because Mater's missing! I'm going to see if we can get some search parties started up tonight."

Storm's face went slack. "…Mater?" he gasped. He knew he hadn't seen the tow truck around lately, but he never thought Mater would go missing. "You know what, Ramone, I think my evening's free after all."

Thirty minutes later...

A lot of talk and some speculative gibberish past between the cars gathered at Flo's V8 Café, but there was nothing concrete until Mrs. McQueen spoke up. "Excuse me, everyone!" Sally interjected. "But I do believe the most important thing we need to know is how long Mater has been gone!"

"Good call, Sal," Lightning agreed. "Any ideas anyone?"

"I was with him," Storm spoke up.

"Where and when was the last time you've seen him?"

"The evening before yesterday. We were coming from the tractor fields together when Mater run away when my hauler came up the route thinking she was Frank. I don't know where he could have gone to…"

"Hmm… at least it gives us a starting point," Lightning hummed thoughtfully. "Okay, everyone, listen up! Everyone will be paired in groups of two and we will search a 25-mile radius of the town until sundown. If we find nothing, we will resume the search tomorrow morning! Does everyone agree?"

All the cars nodded.

"Group 1!" Lightning began to pair everyone up. "Flo, you're with Cruz. I want you two to search around Willy's Butte."

"You got it honey!" Flo chirped.

Cruz revved up her engine. "Consider it done!"

"Group 2, Mack! You're with Gale," Lightning told them. "I need you two to search along the highway along Route 66."

"You got it, boss!" Mack wiggled his shadebrows suggestively at the dark semi.

Gale cringed back. "Can I switch p-"

"-Nope! Group number 3, Sally!"

"Yes?"

"You're with Red since he's most comfortable around you. Hear that, Big Red? I'm counting on you to keep her safe! Understand?"

The firetruck nodded vigorously.

"Good."

Sally rolled her eyes. "I am fine, Stickers-"

"Of course you are," he cooed. "I need you and Red to search the perimeter of Radiator Springs!"

"Really, the town perimeter?" she asked incredulously.

"You never know, you may get tired and need some rest! Staying close to town is what's best for your condi-um, I mean _you_ , right now," Lightning muttered protectively. "Ahem! Now, group 4! Ramone, you're with Fillmore and I want you two to be searching the Copperfields!"

"Sure, man," Fillmore agreed. "My eyes are peeled."

Ramone nodded. "We'll search behind every ramp and every high and low!" he promised, raising himself on his axles.

"And Storm…" Lightning turned his steely blues eyes on Storm. "…you're coming with me. We'll search the prairies and Redclay Canyon together."

"Oh goody," Storm deadpanned. This evening couldn't possibly get worse.

"That's pretty far past 25 miles..." Sally muttered worriedly.

"We can handle it, Sal, we're racers remember?"

"At least I am," Storm pointed out.

"Another word, Storm and I'll leave you stranded," Lightning threatened him.

"Make sure to bring him back, Stickers," Sally ordered her husband sternly.

"Naw, Sal. I'll bury him in a sand dune and blame his absence on the Nut and Bolt Flickers."

Sally sent him an unamused look. "Come back with Mater **_and_** Strom!"

"Yeeeah," Lightning said, not really listening to her anymore. "I'll get Mater to help dispose of the evidence too..."

"Ugh!" Sally rolled her eyes. Looking equal amounts of annoyed and embarrassed, she turned to Strom, "He's kidding, Storm!" she chuckled forcefully. "He's such a kidder!"

Storm sent her a nonplused look. He turned to Cruz and mock-whispered, "If anything happens to me, it was McQueen."

Cruz giggled.

"I'm serious," Storm turned to his hauler. "Gale! if we're not back by nightfall, search me out using the GPS."

"Hmph, I'll think about it," his hauler replied to him a little too coolly. Apparently, she was still mad about his stunt from earlier.

"Not now, Gale!"

Everyone laughed at his expense.

Three hours later...

Sally and Big Red searched the town perimeter for the 10th time just to stay busy. It was so embarrassing that this was the search area Lightning assigned to them. Couldn't he get any more obvious than that? It was dusk by now and soon all the cars came rolling back into town pair by pair until only the cars Lightning and Storm were missing.

"Why aren't they back yet?" Cruz muttered worriedly.

"Ah, don't worry," Ramone tried to reassure her. "Lightning and your boyfriend will be back any moment now-"

"H-He's not my boyfriend!" Cruz denied.

"Girl, _pleeeeaaassseee!"_ Flo rolled her eyes at the yellow coupe.

Cruz's paint darken to the shade of a rosy orange.

"Cruz, why don't you try giving Storm a call?" Sally suggested. "You both have internal phones, right?"

She brightened. "Oh yeah, we do! I'll call him right now... Hey Hamilton, call Jackson!"

" _Dialing Storm, Jackson… … … …"_ the line beeped and then an automated voice announced. _"The number you have reached is not available. Good-bye."_

"What?!" Cruz exclaimed. "This never happened before, let me try again!"

The same result happened. Not good.

"Gale!" Sally turned toward's Storm's driver. "Can you locate Jackson? I think he mentioned something about a GPS earlier...?"

"I will try," the hauler activated her GPS system. After a moment, she blinked, her shadebrows furrowing. Gale's next words chilled Sally's oil. "I… he's… I cannot locate Mr. Storm on my tracker at all…"

Oh, Manufacturer...

Sally took a deep breath to remain calm.

"...You don't think Lightning did the dirty deed and actually gotten rid of Storm...?"

"Oh, c'mon guys, Mr. McQueen wouldn't off Storm like that!"

"...yeah, I guess that's true, but that would mean both of them are missing!"

"Can we go out and search for them?" Cruz asked, her tires already turned towards Route 66.

Ramone shook his head. "At this time of night, it's too dangerous, kiddo! All we can hope right now is that Lightning and Storm are running a little late."

"And if they aren't?"

'Stickers is alright, Stickers is alright, Stickers is alright,' Sally chanted to herself. She took another breath and exhaled slowly. Remain cool, remain focused. Panic leads to nowhere. "Then we call the police," she stated decisively.

"Then who do we call?" Fillmore wondered hazily. "The only police car we have in the whole town is Sherriff," he reminded her. "And he's still out."

Sally took another deep breath. Remain, calm, remain calm, remain calm. "Well, yes in Radiator Springs, but certainly there must be another station somewhere in Carburetor County..."

"Nope."

"T-That can't be!" Sally sputtered. "You mean to tell me there is only one cop car in all of Carburetor County?!"

"I'm afraid Fillmore's right, honey!" Flo said. "We will have to alert authorities in neighboring county-"

"THEN DO IT ALREADY!" Sally yelled. Everyone reversed back from shock at her outburst. "…please... I-I am so sorry for yelling at you, Flo-"

"It's okay, we understand, sweetheart," Flo soothed her. "Don't worry about a thing! We will find, Lightning and Storm."

"Don't stress out, Mrs. Sally!" Cruz fretted, hovering around her like a bee. "It cannot be good for the carriage car!"

"Carriage car!" Flo exclaimed, her grill dropping open. "There's a baby involved in this!?"

"…yes," Sally sniffled. "Lightning and I were going to announce this during the Relight Festival, but yes, we're expecting our first carriage car."

"Well, then Congratulations!"

Honking horns and cheers ensued at the news. It was very touching for her friends to share in her joy. "Thank you..." Sally said quietly.

"And all the more reason to get daddy back home!" Flo grinned. "Right?"

Sally didn't trust herself to speak, so she just nodded. _'Yes, please come back, Lightning, you can't leave me like this-'_ her newly installed phone rang, causing Sally to jerk on her axels. _"You have a call from Sarge,"_ the automated voice chriped. Sally took a deep breath before answering. "...Hello, Sarge-"

"Let's skip the plesantries right now, Mrs. McQueen. We got ourselves in bit of a situation here!" the old army jeep told her urgently.

Sally felt her coils tigthening. "What is it?"

"I am in the middle of a rescue operation that's what, and I will need your help and every abled wheeled car in town if we're to get Lightning back!"


End file.
